“Patience is the companion of wisdom” (St. Augustine).

I don’t pick a word of the year at the start of each year. Instead, at least for the last four years, I’ve realized at some point during the year that the Holy Spirit has given me a word—a theme or lesson that I’ve been learning all year.

This year, it was patience, so I probably shouldn’t have been surprised when this year’s CWIB Advent theme (developed by the writing team with basically no initial input from me) was focused on waiting.

Never Pray for Patience?

Of course, Advent is all about waiting. But previous years’ themes have focused on other aspects of the Advent story, from the journey of the three kings to giving God our “fiat.” This year, it’s focused specifically on waiting for Jesus.

This year, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for clarity on personal decisions. Waiting for healing. Waiting for feedback on a book proposal. I even committed to a weekly holy hour at my parish, which is teaching me patience and the ability to sit in silence. Frequently throughout 2023, I found out I had to wait for something else, longer than I wanted to, and said to my husband, “Ah, more lessons in patience.”

I’ve heard people joke that you should never pray for patience, because the Lord will flood you with opportunities to learn it. I can confirm that the latter is true—but you should definitely pray for patience anyway.

It’s All About the Cross

I’ve written this year about coping with exacerbated fibromyalgia since becoming a mother in 2021. Since January of this year, I’ve also been dealing with a return of endometriosis symptoms, and on Nov. 30, I had my second excision surgery. I’m hopeful for relief from some of my pain symptoms, but I also know that God never promised that we would have a life without pain, least of all those of us with chronic pain conditions that still baffle scientists.

We can wait—even patiently—for healing, and it may never come. But that waiting is a gift. It helps us grow in patience, and it helps us learn to lean on Christ.

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light” (Matthew 11:28).

Did you know that a yoke is, by design, made for two animals? When we take Jesus’ yoke upon us, it doesn’t mean He’s giving us a cross to carry alone. Rather, He’s carrying it with us. If we cling to that yoke, we also cling to Jesus.

St. Katherine Drexel said that “the patient endurance of the Cross — whatever nature it may be — is the highest work we have to do.” God gives us the cross we need for our sanctification. I am impatient and prone to pride, so He has given me suffering to humble me and frequent periods of waiting to teach me patience. Most of all, He’s showing me that a joyful life requires yoking myself to Him and waiting patiently for the greatest joy of all—our union in Heaven.