The Gift of Patience: Expanding Love and Understanding

Lately, the Lord has been dealing with me about patience in a very personal way—not as a cute personality trait, but as a spiritual posture. The kind of patience that doesn’t just make you “nicer,” but actually makes you deeper. The kind that stretches your capacity to love well.

And I’m learning something I didn’t fully appreciate before: the more patience we grow in, the more understanding we gain. And the more understanding we gain, the more room we have to love people the way Christ loves us.

Because let’s be honest—most of us don’t struggle with patience when things are going our way. We struggle with patience when people don’t move at our pace, respond with our logic, or communicate with our style. Patience gets tested when someone’s “normal” is different than ours.

When impatience shows up, it’s usually deeper than the moment

A lot of irritation isn’t really about what just happened. It’s about what we expected to happen.

We get frustrated because someone didn’t respond “properly.”
They didn’t say what we thought they should say.
They didn’t pick up on what seemed obvious to us.
They didn’t act in the way we believe is mature, wise, or considerate.

And in those moments, impatience often reveals something: we don’t just want people to do what’s right—we want them to do what feels right to us.

Sometimes our annoyance is less about righteousness and more about preference.

Differences are not offenses, but impatience treats them like they are

Here’s something I’ve had to face: I’ve mistaken “different” for “wrong.”

Not because I’m trying to be harsh—but because when you’re operating from your own lens, it’s easy to assume your lens is the clearest one. If you’re direct, you might label someone as “too sensitive.” If you’re gentle, you might label someone as “too blunt.” If you’re structured, you might call someone “careless.” If you’re spontaneous, you might call someone “rigid.”

But the truth is, people don’t experience life through our nervous system, our upbringing, our wounds, our processing speed, or our background.

So when we demand that they respond like we do, we’re not asking for unity—we’re asking for sameness.

And sameness was never the goal. Love was.

Patience creates space for perspective

One of the simplest practices that’s been helping me is this:

When I feel irritation rising, I pause and ask myself:

• Why do I believe my way is the “better” way?

• Is this actually a moral issue, or is it a preference issue?

• What might be happening in them that I can’t see?

• If I were carrying what they’re carrying, how would I respond?

That pause has been humbling.

Because patience doesn’t excuse wrong behavior—but it does slow down the urge to judge, and it creates room to understand what’s beneath the surface. And understanding changes everything. It softens us. It steadies us. It keeps us from reacting in a way that later requires repentance.

Patience isn’t just waiting—it’s love making room

We often think patience is about time. But patience is really about capacity.

It’s the ability to stay loving when you don’t feel understood.
To stay gentle when someone is moving slowly.
To stay grounded when someone else is emotionally loud.
To stay kind when you want to correct, rush, or dismiss.

Patience is not passive. It’s powerful.

It is love refusing to shrink.

And as believers, we’re called to love in a way that reflects the nature of Christ—not a love that’s only available when people are easy, but a love that remains present even when people are complicated.

Patience reveals maturity because it reveals security

Impatience often comes from feeling out of control. When you don’t feel in control, you get tense. When you feel tense, you get sharp. And when you get sharp, you stop seeing people—you start seeing problems.

But patience is what happens when we trust God enough to not panic over people’s process.

It says:
“I don’t have to force this.”
“I don’t have to fix this immediately.”
“I don’t have to win this moment.”
“I can stay loving here.”

And that kind of patience doesn’t come from willpower. It comes from surrender.

A gentle challenge for us (and yes, for me too)

If impatience has been showing up in your speech, your tone, your parenting, your marriage, or even your inner thoughts, consider this:

Sometimes God isn’t just teaching you to tolerate people.
Sometimes He’s expanding your heart so you can carry people.

Because the ministry of reconciliation—whether we’re in a pulpit or in a kitchen—requires patience. You cannot reconcile what you keep rushing. You cannot heal what you keep harshly judging. And you cannot reflect Christ while constantly insisting everyone match your pace.

Closing reflection

Patience isn’t just about waiting. It’s about making space.

Space for people to be human.
Space for growth.
Space for process.
Space for communication that isn’t perfect.
Space for the Holy Spirit to work in them—and in you.

And as God stretches our patience, He stretches our love. He stretches our understanding. And He stretches our ability to respond like Jesus.

Because patience is not weakness.

It’s Christ in you—making room.

Where has impatience been showing up lately—and what might God be inviting you to see differently?