I took a pie making class this morning. This is the literal fruit of my labor. You can't tell it in the picture, but that crack you see is actually part of a fancy letter A (for apple) that doubles as venting holes.
You should have seen the bottom crust before I filled it. It was perfect, absolutely flawless. I'm not the only one who thought so either. Someone else at the class commented on it first, causing me to reply, JOKINGLY, that if you can't do something perfectly the first time, you shouldn't do it at all. Does it sound to you like patience is a strength of mine?
Later in the day I had a texting conversation with a very dear friend of mine. (She doesn't read my blog, so she won't know I made part of the convo public unless you tell her.)
HER: ...sometimes answers don't come as soon as we would like them to.
ME: Yeah, I'm becoming pretty familiar with that concept. I can't think of anything since Matt died that has come when I wanted it to.
HER: I hate lessons in patience.
ME: Totally! How do you know when you've learned it?!
HER: ...that whole enduring to the end crap sure does get exhausting to think about...if you figure out life before me...please share.
ME: That seems too big. How 'bout I just let you know when I figure out the banjo?
It's hidden in a lot of fluff, but that's the point of my post today: Life's lessons. How do we know when we've learned them? When the trials and challenges never seem to end, are we not catching on to the lesson? I'd really like to have your thoughts on this one.