Patience

I write it in the sand and wait for the waves to come to wash it away. As if that might be an indication that it would be all right to lose it! Who do I think I am?

Am I exempt from the drudgery of the trials which come with daily living? Am I to be delivered from the courage it takes to get through the pain? Is my path to be an easier, softer trudge than my neighbor's? Who do I think I am?

Where is it written that my lesson today should come easy? Who is it that told me life was fair? Where is the justice in being elite? Who do I think I am?

I was told long ago that I have patience right up until the time I lose it. I believed it then. I believe it now. So God... who do I think I am?

Patience

You know, God, the World Summit has brought up all sorts of feelings. I know the feelings in and of themselves won't hurt me. But why do I have to keep reliving all this stuff?

The technique promises that it won't reoccur. And if it does then the feelings attached will more or less be neutralized. That hasn't happened yet. Maybe it's just a matter of repetition and determination. That's what I keep hearing. So it must be true. But the process isn't very gentle. Maybe I'm hoping for too much, too soon. I don't know. Maybe I just don't have any patience.

I'm going to give it over to you for now. It's more than I can bear. When it's time, let me know what and when to do the things I need to do...

As always, I thank You.