TMG Philosophy: Stronger in Waiting- Part 1

I am impatient. Though I resolve each year of my life to become more patient, I feel like the virtue slips further out of my reach.  With a toddler son now, and an infant daughter, I find myself surprised when my friends and family tell me I am calm and patient with the kids.  Most times, I feel frantic and flustered.  Most times, I feel like screaming while I roll my eyes dramatically when my son decides we need to stack the books AGAIN just as we are leaving the house; or he chooses to throw a level 12 tantrum with five minutes to spare before getting to an important appointment (level 12 requires at least 37 minutes to get through).  Most times, I feel like giving myself a time out in the corner and rocking back and forth.  Truth is, I am impatient, no matter how I SEEM to others.   I loathe waiting, whether it is in a line for food or for my kids, or for photos to upload.  I start twitching.  

It is exciting to think about where The Transmogrifier will go, how many people we can inspire to create and connect with through our photos and blog.  Trouble is, I, along with the other team members, have to wait. Probably longer than ANY of us want to.  I loathe waiting.  Whenever I hear myself drift toward this negative but very real part of me, I remind myself…



Ten years ago, if someone had told me I’d be stronger because of waiting, I’d have shown them the door.  I didn’t have time to listen to psychobabble about being refined through trials and patience.  I had a plan.  My husband and I wanted to start a family, and we were pretty sure it would happen pretty fast, without glitches.  We were so wrong.   One year, then three, then eight years went by.  People tried to support us.  People tried to love us.  I didn’t have time for that though.  I didn’t want to wait around and be comforted. 

My fervent pleading and prayers seemed unanswered.  Or maybe I didn’t wait for an answer.  I began to slow down.  My hope disappeared.   My courage vanished.  My strength dwindled.   I cried harder, pleaded longer, listened more intently, and waited for a “yes”.   But all my waiting got me was another year, another “no”.   I was done waiting.  I gave up. 

And then, one summer, some key people and a series of events changed me forever.    

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