God always has patience.

Hear the tender words of Pope Francis, shepherd of the Church and father to millions, who declared with simplicity and power: “God always has patience.” This saying, though short, carries the depth of oceans. For in it we are reminded that the Eternal One, who holds all things in His hands, does not hurry, does not despair, and does not abandon His creatures when they stumble. Where men grow weary, where friends turn away, where even the strongest patience breaks, the patience of God endures forever.

The origin of this saying rests in Pope Francis’s teachings on mercy and forgiveness. From the first days of his papacy, he spoke of God not as a harsh judge quick to condemn, but as a loving Father who waits with open arms. He often compared the Lord to the father in the parable of the prodigal son—watching, waiting, never ceasing to hope that His child will return. When Francis said “God always has patience,” he was not speaking of delay but of divine love: love that is willing to wait for the sinner to rise, the lost to return, and the broken to be healed.

Consider the image of human impatience. A man prays for change but despairs when it does not come swiftly. A parent grows weary of a wayward child. A friend loses hope after betrayal. This is the weakness of man. But God, who sees the end from the beginning, who knows the hidden growth of the seed beneath the soil, does not abandon His children. His patience is not the cold patience of indifference, but the warm patience of one who believes that even the hardest heart can soften, even the most distant soul can return.

History shows us examples of this divine patience reflected in human lives. Think of Saint Augustine, who for years wandered far from God, lost in pride, passion, and error. His mother, Saint Monica, prayed with tears for his conversion. Decades passed, yet God did not abandon Augustine. At last, through many struggles, Augustine’s heart was pierced by truth, and he became one of the greatest voices of the Church. Had God’s patience failed, had His mercy been exhausted, Augustine’s story would have ended in ruin. But because God always has patience, his life was redeemed.

This truth is not only for the saints of old but for us all. When we fail, when we sin, when we turn from the right path, we often think God has turned His face from us. But Francis reminds us that it is not so. The Lord waits, always ready to forgive, always ready to restore. His patience does not excuse our faults but gives us time to rise, time to repent, time to grow into the fullness He intended for us. Where human judgment hurries to condemn, divine patience lingers to save.

The lesson for us is profound: if God always has patience, then we too must learn patience—with ourselves, with others, and with the slow unfolding of life. We must not despair when change is slow, nor give up when others falter. Just as God does not abandon us, we must not abandon each other. Patience becomes the highest form of love: the willingness to endure disappointment without surrendering hope, the courage to wait for the good that is yet unseen.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: take these words to heart. When you stumble, rise again, for God is still waiting. When others wrong you, endure with patience, for God endures with you. And when you grow weary of the slow work of goodness, remember Francis’s teaching: “God always has patience.” Let that truth steady your steps, soften your judgments, and strengthen your hope. For if the Eternal has patience with us, then surely we can learn to be patient with one another—and in that patience lies the secret of mercy, peace, and salvation.