Patience is a Virtue?

First of all...mad props to Josh Murphy, my friend in Alaska. One of the options I have on the blog is to see how many people view the blog and from where. I knocked out the US mainland, and my map looked a lot cooler because of Alaska being colored on my map as well.

I always here how patience is a virtue...I contend it is punishment. Let me explain. I can remember praying for patience, thinking I wanted to be a well rounded individual; and why not pray for it. When I became I thought God was teaching me patience. We debt with misbehavior, disrespect, and life's other difficulties in try to rationalize with 5 year old. Nothing...and I mean nothing...could prepare me for this year patience lessons from God.

This year I assistant coached for Avery's basketball team and it was tough. Kids running around, not listening, and completely tearing the heart out of a team sport by making it a one pass and run the ball straight to the goal. Then I thought the big patience lesson would come from taking care of a new born, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened today. Today I watched one of my most favorite things in the world ripped to shreds...today I watched the 6 and under T-Ball team's second practice.

I missed the first because of my class, so today I got to my first and their second practice. Whew...it was rough. I have watched my son practice and look really good as a 5 year old baseball prodigy (I say prodigy because Jill and I have been planning on retiring off of Avery's Major League Baseball salary)but today he looked like a kid on a baseball diamond. On an average play there was kid KO-ing the tee, half the team run towards the glorified bunt that was hit off the tee, and of course at least 8 kids throwing dirt into the air only to hit me in the face as the wind pushed it straight towards me. I think I see how it must be watching the stock market with money invested. Saturday Avery was hitting 45 mph batting cage balls with me thinking my future funding was set, and today I now realize I will always be a working class joe because my son wants to play with the glove on the wrong hand so he can better grip the dirt to throw straight above his head.

I remember being so obedient, and listening to every command that was given me by my coaches. I am pretty sure my technique was already flawless by practice number two. Or at least that how I remember it. I never could have imagined it would be so much fun learning patience.

--Be Excellent To Each Other