I think God's really blessed me with patience. I'm good with a

Hear, O children of life’s long road, the words of Niki Taylor, who spoke with humility and strength: “I think God’s really blessed me with patience. I’m good with a lot of things going on at once.” In these words lies the ancient truth that gifts are not always of gold or wealth, but of spirit. For in the chaos of many burdens, it is not riches that carry us through, but the quiet flame of patience, the ability to hold steady when the world demands too much.

From the dawn of humankind, the wise have praised the virtue of patience. It is the root of endurance, the shield in adversity, the calm in the storm. When Niki gives thanks to God for this blessing, she recognizes that such strength is not of her own making alone, but a gift sown deep within her soul. To be “good with a lot of things going on at once” is not mere talent—it is the art of balance, the mastery of holding many threads without letting them tangle, the grace to walk in harmony when life presses from every side.

Consider, O listeners, the story of Job from the scriptures. Stripped of wealth, of health, and even of his children, he endured suffering beyond measure. Yet his patience became his crown. Though his heart cried out, he did not curse the hand of heaven. And in the end, his faith was restored, his life renewed. The tale of Job shows us that in trials, the greatest blessing is not always deliverance, but the patience to endure until deliverance comes. In Niki’s words, we hear the echo of that ancient faith: that to endure many trials at once is itself a divine gift.

So too in history we see the fruits of this virtue. Think of Nelson Mandela, who sat in prison for twenty-seven years, waiting, enduring, and believing. Had he not been blessed with patience, his spirit might have broken long before his chains were removed. Yet by holding steady, he was prepared to lead his people when freedom finally came. His life, like Taylor’s words, reminds us that to face “many things at once” is not a curse but a refining fire, shaping a soul to greatness.

Yet let us not mistake patience for passivity. To endure is not to do nothing—it is to act with calm wisdom in the midst of many demands. It is to move steadily where others rush blindly, to keep order where others collapse in disorder. Niki speaks of this balance: not merely waiting, but thriving amidst life’s chaos. To be “good with many things at once” is to carry the strength of the oak tree—still and rooted, yet bearing many branches filled with life.

The lesson is thus revealed: give thanks for the trials that test you, for they awaken your hidden strength. If you find yourself overwhelmed by many burdens, do not curse them, but seek the gift of patience. Train yourself daily: pause before anger, breathe before action, endure before despair. In time, these small acts weave a mighty fabric of endurance. For it is not ease that makes the soul strong, but difficulty borne with grace.

Practical actions stand ready for you. Begin your mornings with reflection, asking for the strength to meet the day’s many tasks without haste. When the storms of life rage, remind yourself: “I can hold many things at once, and still endure.” Look to those around you with gentleness, for in their struggles they too may need your steady presence. Above all, give thanks—to God, to life, to the unseen hand—for every moment of calm you are able to find amidst the tempest.

Therefore, O heirs of tomorrow, remember Niki Taylor’s words: that to be blessed with patience is no small gift, but one of the greatest treasures a soul can hold. With it, you may face the flood of life’s demands and yet not drown. With it, you may endure the weight of many burdens and yet not break. And with it, you may inspire others, showing that true strength is not in rushing, but in enduring, not in force, but in the steady grace of a patient heart.