‘What’s the doctor’s name?’ Mom asks me as if it’s a new question, though it’s the tenth time in as many minutes as we wait for the doctor to come into the consulting room. My patience is wearing thin. Dementia is a cruel disease.
As I walk along the ocean later, I’m asking God to speak to me, something new that reveals another aspect of his wonderful nature.
Then I realise I am like my memory-challenged mother. How often I come to God with the same requests, the same moans, the same needs, as if I’ve never asked him before and revealing I’ve certainly forgotten his answer.
His patience never wears thin. (Though as human, Jesus did sound exasperated when he asked how long he had to put up with this unbelieving generation?!)
Hmm. I thought I had an insight and now I’m wondering. Does his patience wear thin?
Whether yes or no, I know mine does so as I get up to start another day here, my prayer is that the loving Lord will give me patience in abundance today.
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