I was in the 6th grade when the President's Physical Fitness Tests began.

Dreadful old things.

Especially the test where the teachers placed three strips of white tape on the playground and then told you, one at a time, that you had to touch each strip with one foot as fast as you could while traveling from one side to the other. Sound confusing? Well, it was to me, a very uncoordinated, kinda pudgy 12-year old. What made it worse was having your classmates watch you attempt this.

The kids before me seemed to get it and then, alas, my turn arrived. The two women teachers, one with a stopwatch, said, "Go." And I went. But not with the graceful, almost dance-like steps of my classmates, but in a halting, crossing-my-feet-instead-of-side-stepping manner.

Kids giggled. One teacher said, "Stop, stop." Then she showed me the right way. I started again and made the same old clumsy-footed mistakes.

"Stupid old President, anyway," I thought, my face hot, reddening. "He should mind his own business."

Both teachers looked at one another, shook their heads and then one said, "She's just not getting it. Let's just write down 26."

You know how words like those translate to a 12-year-old, don't you? "She's just not like everyone else. She will always be clumsy."

Heh. (I am laughing right now, so please don't feel bad for me.)

Well, those words (and my kid's view translation) challenged me. I went home that day, asked my mom for some tape, then put down three lines of it out on the sidewalk. And then I practiced that side-stepping, touch-the-tape thing over and over. And over. After some time, I became quite good at it.

But of course, by then, the tests were finished.

And yet, I learned that for some of us, some things just take longer to achieve--and that's no great crime. Many hard things simply require going home and practicing alone, with no one watching, and being patient with oneself. Some might even name this perseverance.

And that was a lesson I carried later through Jr. high and high school, actually, especially when it came to understanding algebra and sewing and folk dancing and art (and myriad other subjects I've probably blocked from my memory). Even into adulthood I've practiced this.

But way back then, I went home and practiced gymnastics, too, alone, and you know? That clumsy 12-year-old, several years later, became a gold medalist at her (small) high school for her floor routine. People told her she was quite the graceful little thing.

Given some time, these three-- patience, practice and perseverance--can become quite valuable.


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Be patient with yourself, first. Only then can you become truly patient with others.

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James 1:4
Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

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Need a laugh today? Check out Pat's brilliant post.