And I feel this pressure too, this voice that says I should be further along by now, that I should have figured it out already, that I'm somehow failing because I'm not where I think I should be. 😰

But my faith teaches me something different. It teaches me that God's timing isn't my timing. That some things take years to grow. That patience isn't passivity—it's actually a form of strength, a way of trusting in something bigger than my own urgency. 🌱

I think about how my grandmother raised us. Nothing was rushed. Meals took hours. Conversations happened naturally. Children weren't pushed to be older than they were. There was space for things to unfold at their own pace. And you know what? We were happier. We were more connected. We actually became wiser because we weren't constantly forcing ourselves into the next stage. 💫

I wonder sometimes if the world's obsession with speed is actually making us less fulfilled, not more. If all this rushing is making us miss the actual life that's happening right in front of us. I see people so focused on the next goal that they never enjoy the present moment. So anxious about the future that they can't be present with the people in front of them. 😔

What if patience is actually a form of love? What if waiting for someone to grow at their own pace, not pushing, not forcing, just trusting... what if that's the most beautiful thing we can offer each other? 🤍