patience?

I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.

-Psalm 40: 1-2

I frequently get comments about my patience (surprisingly, not my lack thereof!). I've asked people to explain before because typically when someone compliments me, I feel anything but patient inside. I'm usually taking slow breaths and trying not to scream! The response I consistently receive is that no matter how frustrated I might be inside, I keep my composure in the moment. There are good and bad parts to that trait (like it's great in a classroom but a pretty bad way to do life), but I am generally glad that it's something people say about me.

I don't know what patience should look like on the inside. I imagine someone who's totally peaceful... serene... a person floating along on a cloud while things slowly occur around her. However, as this verse has spun through my head lately, I've started to see something pretty different. Waiting patiently isn't always such a calm, sedate time... it can be a time of earnestly crying out, of being hopelessly stuck in the mud.

I doubt the people who see me day to day would say that I've been drowning in quicksand the past few weeks. It doesn't necessarily show on the outside, but that's the most accurate way to describe what I've felt. I've sung the words of Psalm 40 through over and over in my mind, but I haven't found a firm place to stand. Just the opposite: every time I start to think I've found a foothold, I fall deeper into the pit.

I've been angry with God, and I've struggled to accept the challenges He's placed before me this week. I don't understand this path or this timing, and I'm both physically and mentally exhausted. I want rest, not a new problem to solve.

Is this patience? Maybe... maybe not. I'm waiting at any rate. Waiting, perhaps patiently, because I know my Lord hears my cries.