Last week my kids had a couple days off school - for Presidents' Day weekend, and a professional day for the teachers - and Joshua wanted to spend one of those days fishing. He got up early enough to ride with me into work, and I was going to drop him off at a fishing hole on the way. We'd made plans for the fishing trip the night before, and I told Joshua he needed to be ready to go by 8:25. Yet as the clock ticked that morning, and 8:25 got nearer and nearer, it wasn't looking like my young angler was going to be ready on time. I tried so hard to be patient, not to nag, or get anxious. But I had a 9:00 meeting at work, and my boy was lagging. Finally, the van was loaded with all the necessary fishing equipment and we were on our way. (About 8:28, *ahem*) As we were pulling out of the driveway, I *might* have been releasing a heavy sigh. At almost the same time, Joshua looked at me and said, "Thanks for your patience with me this morning. Sorry for making you practice it!"
And just like that, I recognized (read that: God spoke through my son) one more way God is using my children to refine me. Oh, I made it to my meeting on time. But not before my Father gave me a chance to practice patience.
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