Patience

Learning to be Patient:

Katelyn: 

These first few weeks of married life have been absolutely wonderful and quite a bit of a struggle all at once. Clay and I enjoyed an absolutely perfect honeymoon in the mountains of Tennessee, we got to stay in a cabin, visit several friends, some family, and just enjoy some relaxation after all the craziness of the wedding. 

But while we were enjoying all these things we had a constant worry in the back, and sometimes forefront, of our minds - what's the status on the house we're moving into and are we actually going to be able to live there?

About a month and a half before the wedding Clay and I had decided to take a leap of faith and sign onto a lease for a duplex in Pontiac. The situation would have been perfect; we'd live right next door to a ministry I am a huge fan of, we'd get to help improve the city of Pontiac with them, and we'd get to rent a nice size apartment for a really good price that fit our budget. Sounded too good to be true. Sadly enough it turned out to be just that. 

After failed promises from the landlord, the option to get our money back and get out of the lease being put on to table, and lots of prayer and thought Clay and I decided to withdraw our lease agreement. We moved the things out of the apartment we had dropped off there before the wedding, left behind our keys, and began looking for a different place to live. Talk about stressful. 

Thankfully in all of this we have not been homeless. My parent's have graciously invited us into their home to stay until we find a place, and we are oh so grateful to them for this. Even if Clay's drive to work is an hour both ways, we're happy to have a roof over our heads! 

But there is something about living with your parents after you thought you would be coming home from your honeymoon to a newly re-furnished apartment that leaves you unsettled and restless. Like I said before, I am (we are) beyond grateful to have a place to stay, but sitting at "home" with all of our new things still in boxes, clothes still in duffle bags, and so on can cause you to go a little stir crazy. 

So, with that stir craziness Clay and I had made ourselves think that we HAD to find a new place to live last Monday when we went apartment hunting almost all day. We had put the pressure on to find a place that we could make work so that we could have our own place and get out of my parent's hair (even though they do not feel like we're a burden at all). With little patience in hand we began to go from apartment to apartment, quickly leaving the ones who said they didn't have an opening until September or even late August. We wanted now. 

After several hours of this we began to snap at one another, grow tired, and even more restless. Or at least I did. We eventually found one apartment that would work for us, but we still felt like we were rushing into it, even though we didn't realize that until later that evening when we got back to my parent's. 

When we got home, we told my parents about how the day went, which wasn't all that glamorous. But before we could even share our entire story my Mom just threw out there, "well I know this may not be what you want to hear, but you are more than welcome to stay here for the next month or so until you find a place. That way you can take your time and not feel so rushed. We don't mind you being here at all." 

This caused Clay and I to begin rethinking... pretty much everything - our entire strategy. So here we are, realizing that maybe there aren't any apartments available until September, but that's okay. Maybe God is telling us to be patient. To take our time and be thankful for the opportunity we have to save a little money, enjoy some time with my family, and find the place we are supposed to move into and not just a rush a decision. 

We are obviously going through this for a reason; there's a lesson to be learned, and I think we're learning it.  Be patient, young couple. Take your time and enjoy life's journey. Every situation can and will teach you a valuable lesson if you care to pay attention, and this lesson is all about patience.

Clay:

We're interesting animals, us humans. We tend only to the gardens we think will feed us, and most often we expect the fruits to become immediate. We rarely think about the quality of our expectations, but just that those expectations are met. We want results. We want answers.

As a newly anointed husband, I find my pride to be swelling as of late. The way I see things is completely changing; my priorities are evolving. Suddenly, my own well being is no longer a satisfactory accomplishment. I have this other person, this other half of me, that needs to be taken care of as well. Not that she can't take care of herself, but I want her to feel safe and secure. I want to make sure she feels at home.

It's difficult to do that when I don't have a place for us to call home, then. Learning what it is to be a patient, loving husband isn't as easy as I thought it would be. It's so true that the reality of this 

marriage-thing is never what you think it will be. But the differences from my fantasy and the reality are blessings, not regrets. It just takes a while for me to see those things I guess. I get all blurry and frustrated when things aren't going to plan - a plan I had so feverishly put together. I need control of that garden I was mentioning earlier; I need the results of my labor when I expect them, and not any second later. Which makes the past two weeks all the more humbling.

Life is about the journey, not the destination. It's about the pit stops and awful fast food choices. It's about being so broke that once you have money it seems foreign. It's about friendships, family, memories, a good book or song; life is about the things we do and stuff we remember, not the landing pads at which we momentarily become complacent. I can tell you I went to college, or I could tell you a hundred stories about my college years. The fine line is in the details, and admiring them while they are there. It's so easy to write, but actually living it is an entirely different beast.

The other night on my way home I got to see the sunset in slow motion on the highway. Understand that I drive this same road one hour each way to get to work and home again, always with the same pavement and yellow lines; never a change in the secular patterns of civilization, never a moments relief from a neighbor driver going through the same normal motions as I am. But this night I decided to watch the sky (completely safe, I know) as I drove. The details were unreal. Every day I probably drive past that same painting that God and time place on the canvas of the sky, and I never pay attention. I complain about an hour, when I'm given an hour of life to begin with. How much better would my mornings be if I watched that same sun rise as well? How much does God try to show in the details that I miss because of worldly inconvenience?

So I learn patience. I'm still very bad at it. I still want my garden to develop more quickly, but I'm understanding that in order to find fruit worth having - it must be given time to grow. So my sunsets and sunrises on my way to and from work shall be my blessing in the coming weeks. What little time I have with my wife is exactly that: time I have with my wife. Even though the roof over our heads isn't ours, it keeps the rain at bay. We are surrounded by blessings, and I need to be patient enough to start looking at our current surroundings rather than searching for a clearer future.

Because I don't know our future, and I don't know what will happen next. I'm not sure what my garden will produce. But I know this: in my life I no longer tend to that garden alone, I have my wife tending alongside me. And we'll water it, and wait for the seeds to blossom. If what we see isn't what we expect, we'll adapt and do our best to make it work. Being patient is so difficult for me, but I'm understanding that it's essential right now. I have a feeling it will come in handy down the road, too.