When I was a child, skinny and unaware,

I believed patience was a mystical ability to endure the undesirable.

“Have patience,” some old person would say,

when what they meant was “it’s going to take a while.”

They reduced patience to a waiting game,

a skill to be mastered while we waited for our food.

Now that I’m a grown-ass man,

I know what patience is.

Patience is the silent partner to any worthwhile endeavor.

She ignores small defeats because she knows they are part of the task.

She embraces change because the way is not defined.

And her constant admonishment is “keep going.”

Patience isn’t waiting but a belief.

She accepts the costs because the journey is worth it.

Whatever comes.

My prayer today, and tomorrow, is to be patient,

to stare down the vision in my heart until nothing else remains.

I will fail myself and you.

Then, I will win.

Such is the blessing of the patient.