Wanting Patience

I asked you to help me keep my temper this morning.  I wanted patience.  I didn’t ask for a public transport strike.  I didn’t ask for the printer/copier machine at work to break down when I had so much paperwork to get done before mid afternoon.  I didn’t ask for the office coffee machine pool to run out of coffee, nor for it to be my turn today – when it is pouring with rain – to the bunny that has to rush out and get a new stockpile before lunch.  I asked you for concentration so that I would not do stupid things like buy decaf to win the utter scorn of everyone in the office!

That temper thing.  Your work it interrupted!  What do you expect when you allow Scott to come bellowing into the tea room (“Hel-looo everybody” …. ) while I was trying to push Gina off her whinging about her problems with that idiot she’s been seeing on and off since she broke up with her partner and move her onto gospel – while I had a raging headache from lack of caffeine and lack of sleep, might I add…

So – I say – with all that extra patience you have given me to control my temper today – “Oh, Shut up Scott!”

Then Gina turns on me and gets snitchy and impatient too and says something like, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today …” and storms out.

I could hardly say, “Well last night I hardly slept because there was a tribe of angels violently shaking my bed all night and I kept waking up wanting to puke!”, could I?

Anyway with all the dignity left in the world I just stared at the door.  I vaguely remember Scott apologising and handing me a box of tissues as he commented, “You look tired.” and left.

The next thing I know I woke up with my head on the tea room table with my head in a puddle of drool.  Thanks for the rest, God – I think.  I don’t want to know how many people saw me there because just as I was thinking about the fact that I had to go and change over the decaf for proper coffee, I saw an open packet of real coffee.

Lord, after all that, you really know how to make a girl feel guilty, don’t you?  If I hadn’t asked, Scott wouldn’t have said he’d looked after the coffee.  Nobody really cared where it came from as long as it was there.  They just absorb coffee like oxygen.

Lord, why can’t you just give out patience like oxygen?

Okay.  Maybe I should have stopped to ask occasionally.  Maybe there’s more to it than inhaling it like coffee.  Please forgive me for being so impossible and for not speaking to you like you deserve to be spoken to just now.  This star didn’t twinkle very brightly today, did it?

I’m not sure that I’ll be starting the day asking you to help me to control my temper again in a hurry.

Amen

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