A Test of Love?

I have a two year old.  This means I frequently find my patience, endurance, and sanity being tested.  "It's all about being more stubborn than she is," I often find myself saying to the sympathetic listener, or to no one at all, but simply as a means of committing myself to the idea.  Mary has mastered two entirely frustrating characteristics of the two year old.  First, she can ignore her name repeatedly called whether you are two inches from her face or juggling a baby and dinner prep in the kitchen whilst she is exploring mischievous opportunities in the bathroom upstairs.  Secondly, her ability to play chicken with the "1,2, 3 threat" has the makings of a daredevil.  Just as your lips begin to form the threatening "three" smackdown and you are prepared to rush her off to Timeout Land, her body launches into action at lightning speed, completing whatever simple request she had been resisting.

I heard it once said that if you pray for patience, you better be prepared for all the opportunities God would be sending your way to try your patience.  Upon hearing such wisdom, I panicked.  I had been praying for patience...a lot.  I realized all of those times that I prayed for patience at the end of an exhausting day, I was really looking for respite from having my patience tried.  I did not consider that in order to grasp the concept of patience, I would have to experience opportunities that cause impatience- Mary insisting that she has to put her shoes on when I am in a hurry to leave, Colette requiring detailed explanation about why there are still kids at the park when I am trying to rush her home because Julia's diaper has exploded, the phone call that I cannot get to end despite multiple attempts to bring attention to the chaos developing in my background.

I guess it would be safe to say I do not like to be tested.  For this reason, I have often felt unsettled when reading Bible stories of God testing the faith of His followers: Job, Abraham, the Israelites when they were traveling to the Promised Land, and the disciples.  It almost appeared cruel to me that an all-knowing God would need to test those that loved Him.  Why would He need to test Abraham's faithfulness; He who knows the hearts of man?  What could knowledge could He gain of us that He did not already know?

It was years of confusion before I realized the gain was all mine.  Through testing our hearts, God learns nothing new of us, but reveals to us His goodness and faithfulness, and our own shortcomings.  How can my faith be strong if it is never exercised?  As an athlete trains his body, enduring strenuous activities to strengthen and prepare himself, so should our faith be in constant trial.  If through competing, an athlete learns of his weaknesses, he does not pack up and go home, but uses the knowledge to prepare himself better.

In grade school I viewed tests simply as opportunity to boast about how smart I was.  The grade was the end goal.  Never did I use the test results to understand my needs as a student.  Perhaps this is why I resented testing from God.  There was little to boast about and I felt defeated; another "F" for patience and no amount of prayer seemed to bring about the magical transformation for which I pleaded.  God was not simply looking for a passing grade.  He was revealing to me the cause of my impatience.  From my failing grade, He wanted me to gain lasting knowledge of self that would cause me to be a conqueror of impatience.    

As Christians we should expect trials of faith regularly.  Our attitude as they approach should be, "Lord, what can I gain from this?  How will you teach me?"  And our faith should lead us to believe that we will come out stronger, purer in heart, and prepared for the next challenge.  Let us not forget that Jesus was tested by the devil with several temptations so that we might learn from the champion of our faith how to become triumphant ourselves.