Patience. Virtue or Vow?
When you write a marriage book, it can give the impression that you’re some kind of relationship saint. So let me set the record straight. It would probably take a miracle for me to earn a halo. I fully confess to starting arguments with the willfulness of a schoolyard bully. Over the years, my mouth has uttered strings of words I wholly regret. And like a twister, I’ve come crashing into perfectly peaceful moments only to leave my husband bewildered and ducking for emotional cover. Thank goodness marriage is a sacred space full of grace and second chances. I’ve needed plenty of both!
Patience has never been my strongest virtue. In fact, I’m not even sure if it’s one of my virtues at all. But I continue to work hard at it, because ultimately, I believe patience is part of a marriage vow. It may go unsaid, but I’m certain it’s somewhere in the fine-print next to the for-better-or-worse,-as-long-as-we-both-shall-live bit. Just like you can’t make a good Italian wedding soup without those little meatballs, you can’t have a happy lifelong relationship without patience.
As newlyweds, we usually have plenty of tolerance for when our partner isn’t at their best. But there’s an important distinction to be made between tolerance and patience. Tolerance is the willingness to put up with a certain amount of something. For example, I have a terrible habit of leaving my car keys in different purses and places around the house. Then later, when I need to be somewhere, I frantically search for them, yelling “Arrrgh! Have you seen my keys?!!!” My husband has somehow tolerated this scenario on repeat for the entirety of our twenty-five years together.
With patience comes peace.
Patience on the other hand, is the ability to stay calm, cool and collected through whatever it is you’re tolerating. In the early days of our marriage, my husband had very little patience for my frantic car key searches. He’d say, “You know, this wouldn’t happen if you’d always put things away where they belong!” (Good point, but I'm a knucklehead who never seems to level up at this bit of wisdom.) The stress and frustration of my search would affect his mood long after I’d found my keys and pulled out of the driveway. Ironically, while I was the one experiencing the problem, he was the one who ended up suffering.
At some point, we discovered something relationship-altering. With patience comes peace. It’s a much happier way to spend our days together. Sure, I still lose my keys because I’m me. But I've learned to be patient with myself and my mistakes. I try to resolve things more calmly. And he’s learned it’s best to simply smile and ask, “Have you checked the front porch?”
