Patience is a virtue that defines us as Christian. It was one of the character qualities of Christ, and therefore one that we, too, are called to exercise. Paul spoke of it as one of nine fruits in his list of the fruit of the Spirit.

And perhaps of those nine, patience is the most difficult to cultivate in our lives. Arguably, it is more difficult than love, joy, peace, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control (well, maybe not self-control). We are easily irritated with people; we get frustrated with ourselves; we fret over circumstances; we are especially impatient with God.

Phillips Brooks, a nineteenth century New England preacher, was well known for his poise and quiet manner, but at times, suffered moments of frustration and irritability. One day he was feverishly pacing the floor like a caged lion, and someone asked him, “What’s the trouble, Mr. Brooks?”

He said, “The trouble is that I’m in a hurry, but God isn’t!”

Perhaps that’s the greatest frustration of all! We don’t like God’s timing! We get irritated with his slowness! We think he should do things the way we want, when we want!

When I was a kid, there was an old saint in our church who was fond of saying, “God may be slow, but he’s never late.” That bit of old country wit was not only sound theology, it was sage advice!

God’s plans for you, his purposes for the people in your life, his timing in your circumstances, and his design for bringing about justice and vindication in the world around you are in his control—not yours, nor mine. And though frustrating at times, we truly ought to be thankful for that, since we have been spared from the very judgment we long to be poured out on this rotten old world.

This psalm speaks of that time when God will intervene in this world to defend his honor and vindicate his people. But until then, we are called to practice patience—with our circumstances, and with God’s timing. We are to be still, trust that God is God, and in due time, he will make the way things ought to be clear to the whole world.

Until then, practicing patience in the daily ordinariness of our lives is really a matter of trust and obedience. And if for no other reason, we ought to develop it since our impatience won’t hurry God’s timing one second.

“There are three indispensable requirements for a missionary:  1. Patience  2. Patience  3. Patience.”
—Hudson Taylor

Read Psalm 39

One day you will have an epitaph chiseled on a headstone. If you doubt that, take a stroll through a cemetery and you’ll see that everyone gets one. Seriously, as morbid as it might sound, I’d highly recommend that stroll, because what you’ll read on those markers will tell a lot about the people buried beneath them.

On that stroll you will see the history of those dearly departed ones succinctly packaged by the dash between two dates—the date of their birth, and the date of their death. That dash is what we call life. One little dash, but what a story it tells. And often those who are left behind sum up the departed one’s dash with an inscription left on the headstone, an epitaph.

Some of those inscriptions are profound. Some express tremendous love or a deep sense of loss. Some are actually quite humorous. There are websites dedicated to the more memorable tombstones in history. Here are a few that might cause a chuckle:

“Owen Moore has passed away, Owin’ More than he could pay.”

“Here lies a man named Zeke. Second fastest draw in Cripple Creek.”

“I told you I was sick.”

Whether profound, heartwarming, heart wrenching, or even funny, each epitaph is quite instructive. Here’s one that not only made me laugh, it really made me think:

“This is what I expected—But not so soon.”

Epitaphs like that remind you of the unavoidable reality that one day you, too, will have your entire life summed up and chiseled onto a stone for others to read. There’s a New England headstone that captured this sobering truth:

“As you pass by and cast an eye,
As you are now so once was I.”

We will all have an epitaph some day. David, the author of this psalm got one…I will get one…you will get one. The only question is, what will yours say? So here’s the deal:

Whatever you hope your epitaph will say means that you will have to live your life that way between now and then.

David, who was far from a perfect man, apparently did a great deal of thinking about the end of his life. That’s what this psalm is all about. And it really changed the way he lived out the rest of his dash, so much so that at the end of it, his friends wrote on his headstone:

“A Man After God’s Own Heart.” (Acts 13:22)

Hmmm! I think I’ll take some time…and while I’m at it, I’ll take some stock, too. Why don’t you join me?

“Let thy hope of heaven master thy fear of death. Why shouldst thou be afraid to die, who hopest to live by dying!”
—William Gurnall