I don’t know about you, but I can never seem to put on my socks whilst standing. Call it lack of equilibrium, or I’m bigger boned than most, or whatever you will. An excuse isn’t going to miraculously give me that ability, because I am not capable of creating miracles all by myself. If I lift one leg and hunch over, I’m just bound to fall over. Only when I am seated, can I truly focus on putting the socks to cover my tootsies– safely and comfortably. You might be thinking I’m about to write about self-reliance. While this aligns nicely, I am also speaking up about patience. Taking things one at a time to focus on whatever I need to without the, well, fear of failing. We hate failing in today’s world, don’t we? But we certainly don’t have to fear that. In the words of Duckie, one of my favorite childhood cartoon characters in “The Land Before Time”… Nope, nope, nope.
Earlier this week, I shared a personal story about a huge struggle I encountered after The Big Cheese took my momma back home to be in His kingdom. That particular feat began with lots of physical pain which doctors couldn’t define what was causing me to feel all that I was suffering. With a lack of answers why, they tossed around words like “psychosomatic” and “idiopathic.” I grew even more frustrated because it was affecting my ability to stand, and work in anyplace which required me to stand for long periods of time–or use my legs at all for that matter. This persisted for a good year, and you know what ultimately caused it? Worry. Nothing was getting better. My life was not improving, even after overcoming my for-all-intents-and-purposes… addiction to painkillers and muscle relaxers.
“Be patient, therefore, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.” (James 5:7-8 ESV)
Nine years ago, I might have cracked open to scripture only in the frailest and darkest of times. And only then, that was maybe a couple times a year. Looking back now, I can identify that period of time as a result of little patience. I thought I was able to do everything myself, despite my legs turning into grape jelly. That’s when I met Bea, whom I consider my life adviser. We’d crossed digital paths in a Facebook group for writers. This was when I realized, God put her in my life for a reason. She was very much a motherly figure, the kind of emotional support a human provides another. I’d joined a temp agency to try even earn fifty bucks that week, if that’s all it would turn up.
The next day, I got a call asking if I was willing to work with a catering company who needed help at a wedding event. Having never served anyone anything in my life before but sass mouth, I was uncertain if I was a good fit. Since I was anything but a coward, I put forth the attitude to try. But this temp job required a white oxford shirt and black pants, of which I had neither. I spoke with Bea on the phone about the opportunity and she offered the encouragement that I should try it. The fact I lacked to meet their clothing requirements was in fact, no obstacle at all. Bea went to her local Chase Bank and deposited the money needed into my account so I could go to Walmart and jump through that hoop.
Evening arrived and I drove myself to the catering business’s central kitchen and helped load the van of all the food and utensils needed at the venue. I rode with them and a handful of other workers to the wedding site. This is where things went downhill, in the most literal and figurative sense combined. The venue was behind a clubhouse which literally rested at the top of a hill. After the reception began, I was shuffling my ‘big bones’ up and down a hill for three hours. Because of my mobility concerns, my head rarely looked up from the ground. I was pouty because I was uncomfortable physically and mentally (see; I have never liked large groups of people). If I had to count how many times I genuinely smiled instead of plastering a fake one, I’d say it was only during a brief conversation with a lady whom was my Home Economics Teacher in middle school.
Fast forward an hour later. Silver platter in hand with my head locked-in on the ground, a gentleman I didn’t see in my peripheral vision was headed up the incline as I was stepping down. We bumped into each other, causing the tray of disgusting looking tapas to smash firmly into his shirt which probably cost more than I was surely making that evening. Little did I know at the time, it was the father of the bride. Major yikes. What I was sure of, was upon impact, I lost balance and tumbled down the hill. Not one soul walked over to help me up or see if I was even okay. I picked myself up, walked over to pick up the tray and hobbled myself back to the catering tent where I sulked for about twenty minutes wondering why I was putting myself through such torture.
After having my pity-party, I was asked to help serve dessert to everyone seated at the tables where I was required to hold a platter of cake slices above one hand and a carafe of hot coffee in the other. Of course, my little blunder caught most people’s attention, I was being criminalized because I ran into the bride’s dad. Like how dare I be clumsy, right? Bouncing from this table to another, I was sure to catch the stink eye and disgusting sighs from people in the wedding party. I didn’t like how rude they were, and by that point I was just “not having it” so I sat the carafe of hot coffee down on the last table I’d served, dropped the tray which thankfully was bare by that point. Put my hands in the air, proclaiming, “You guys are horrible people. Mean and rude people.”
I hobbled toward to the caterers tent and told the owner that I just couldn’t do it anymore and my legs were giving out. I needed to just go home and clean up the scrape on my arm which had came in contact with the sharp edge of a rock on the tumble down. He let out a cavernous sigh, but appeared to not show a look of surprise before replying, “I get it, I’m sorry this didn’t work out.” He reached into his pocket and handed me cash from his own wallet. It was $100. That was certainly way more than I would have earned if the night went without a hitch (no pun intended). He said if I could sit down and wait a few minutes, he would take me back to my parked car at their business. He apologized for my fall and showed me so much grace and understanding. I called Bea while sitting down to wait for him. I was distraught and having a breakdown. For I failed miserably, yet somehow The Lord came through this man with a generous and understanding heart. I could see some disappointment in the owner’s eyes. But if I could place my finger on his true feelings, he showed more understanding and compassion than giving the enemy a bridge into my mind which had already been in a fragile state. He bore the fruit of the Spirit which was certainly everything mentioned in the below scripture.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness.” (Galatians 5:22 ESV)
The next morning, I returned to Walmart to get some food with that very gesture of Faith from the catering proprietor. As I was leaving, I ran into an old colleague from a previous job. She told me that her ex-husband was needing a couple new employees at Pier One Imports. Some of you know me personally, and know where I’m headed with this. That job, combined with the help and support of Bea and her husband, is what lead me into the new life I’d established in Indiana. Pier One Imports let me transfer to a store in the Hoosier state so I wasn’t moving with no employment.
What is something you can look back and say, “Huh, you know it was through patience and taking one moment at a time which led me to XYZ?” For certainly had I not taken one moment at a time and not experienced that evening, I wouldn’t have been blessed with the “early rain” [the Pier One Imports job] which led to the “late rain” [the end result which was employment post-move].
God is never early, He is never late. But He’s always on time.
You’ve all heard that phrase, surely. The Hebrew translation to this is referred to as mow’ed, which means ‘appointed time and place.’ We just need to be patient and believe that God is going to arrive on time.
Prayer:
“Yahweh, please help me and all your children sit still just a bit longer. Let us put our Faith in your plan and learn to take it one moment, one step at a time. For nothing we try ourselves is ever going to hurry your mighty power even a second quicker. I appreciate the blessings you bring into our lives each and every day, which were in your will to happen timely and seamlessly. Hallelujah to you and your perfect son Jesus for letting our hearts beat according to your clock and not our own here on this green earth. Amen!”
The Heart Mechanic 