Fruits of Patience
- Amberly Brislin

- Jan 3
- 3 min read
Updated: Jan 5

Patience is one of those fruits of the Spirit we admire... until we're asked to actually practice it.
We want quick answers. Immediate results. Clear timelines. We pray, we hope, and then we wait—and waiting can feel like the hardest part of faith. But patience is not giving up or giving in. Patience is an active trust that God is working, even when we can’t see it yet.
Just recently, the week before Thanksgiving, my husband was hit by a truck while running, but it wasn't until weeks after my husband's accident that patience truly came into focus for me (and maybe him). Nearly three weeks of watching him wake up in pain, push through each day, and wrestle with frustration—not just over his injuries, but over his own body. A body that once laced up tennis shoes without a second thought. A body that could hit the ground running, and run a six-minute mile. A body that now needed time. Yet, patience feels the hardest when progress is slow and healing doesn't follow our timeline.
I watched him do everything “right.” Rest when he could. Push when he needed to. Show up anyway. But underneath it all was the quiet frustration of not being where he wanted to be yet. From a physical appearance standpoint, he was healing—his stitches were removed, the swelling was going down, the bruising was improving—but inside… on his right side, from his hip down, it was like nothing worked. He had to essentially put his right leg where it needed to go—to get in bed, he had to raise his right leg and slide in; to get in the car, he had to sit down, grab his leg, and slide in; even to get dressed, he had to sit on the bed because he couldn't support his weight on his right side. That's when it dawned on me—patience wasn't something being taken from him. It was something being built within him.
One evening we were in the garage, and I remember he walked a mile on the treadmill in 25 minutes and was still discouraged. I remember saying: Patience is not a weakness, it’s a strength.
A strength to slow down.
A strength to listen to your body.
A strength to trust that healing is happening even when you can't feel it.
Patience doesn't deny the pain—it anchors us through it. It teaches us to trust God in the in-between, where progress feels invisible and frustration feels loud. Healing doesn’t always look like forward motion. Sometimes it looks like stillness. And sometimes it looks like trusting that God is working beneath the surface, even when the finish line feels far away. Watching my husband walk through this season reminded me that patience is not passive. It’s courageous. It’s faithful. And it’s often the very place where God does His deepest work.
Just like fruit doesn’t grow overnight, patience develops slowly, often in uncomfortable seasons. It grows in moments when prayers feel unanswered, when plans are delayed, and when life doesn’t move at the pace we hoped for. And yet, those are often the very moments God uses to strengthen our faith. Romans 8:25 reminds us, “If we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.”
Patience is a reminder that God’s timing is intentional, not accidental. What feels like a delay may actually be protection. What feels like silence may be preparation. When we allow the Holy Spirit to cultivate patience in us, we begin to experience a deeper peace—not because circumstances change, but because our trust does.
SHE Walks in Faith
Quietly, right now, right where you're sitting, answer these three questions:
Where in your life are you struggling to wait right now?
Are you trusting God's timing, or trying to rush the outcome?
What might God be growing in your during this season of waiting?
🩷 Prayer
Lord, teach us to see patience the way You do—not as weakness, but as strength. When our bodies are tired, our hearts are frustrated, and progress feels slow, help us trust that You are still at work. Give us grace in the waiting, peace in the discomfort, and faith when healing doesn’t happen on our timeline. Help us to slow down when You ask us to, to listen when You are teaching us, and to rest in the truth that Your timing is always good. We surrender our need to rush and choose to trust You—one day, one step, one moment at a time. Amen.















