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.