I’m Just a Guy: Without PatienceSample

The Humility of Patience

For a large part of my career, I worked in sales and business development. While I loved what I did, I often found it frustrating when working with people who had one particular style of presentation. I call it feature and benefit puking. Not the prettiest term, I know—but hang with me.

My approach to sales was built on service. I wanted to learn everything I could about the customer’s challenges, ask clarifying questions, and identify solutions that truly made a difference. My goal was to address root causes, not symptoms, and to make every moment of their time valuable.

That meant I didn’t always showcase every flashy bell and whistle. If it didn’t add value to their situation, it stayed on the shelf. More than once, I left a meeting with a coworker asking, “Why didn’t you tell them about this?” or “You should have shown them that!” And yet—nine times out of ten—the purchase order came in before the day was done.

There were others, however, who took a completely different approach. In their minds, they already had the answer to every problem. Rather than asking questions or learning about the customer’s needs, they’d fill the meeting reviewing every feature, every benefit, in an effort to prove their own greatness.

The customers would smile and nod, but it was obvious—they’d checked out long before the presentation ended. What frustrated me most wasn’t their approach to selling; it was the selfish ambition driving it. It was pride in full display, and quite frankly, it was ugly.

That image has stuck with me for years, shaping how I view relationships both professionally and personally. Taking time to ask questions, to listen, and to truly care about someone else’s perspective is rare these days. When we do it, we’re communicating through our actions that we value them more than ourselves—and that’s a powerful expression of humility.

I’ll admit, it’s hardest for me to live this out with the people closest to me. Maybe you’ve felt that too. We see our families every day—at meals, on weekends, even crossing paths in the hallway—and it can feel like there’s nothing new to learn about them. But seeing someone and valuing them above ourselves are two very different things.

It strikes me as interesting how much we can learn from Jesus here. Think about how patient He was with His disciples—men He spent every day with, who doubted Him, argued among themselves, and often missed the very lessons He was trying to teach. Yet He stayed calm, engaged them directly, and often asked questions He already knew the answers to.

That makes me wonder—why did Jesus ask questions He already knew the answers to? I think it’s as simple as this: when you ask someone a question with genuine humility, you’re saying, I value your thoughts. I see you. I care about your perspective.

So maybe for us, that’s the invitation—to let humility shape our patience. To slow down long enough to see others through the lens of service instead of self. Because when we do, we reflect the heart of Jesus Himself—the One who never demanded to be heard first but always made time to listen, love, and lead with grace.

When humility meets patience, pride loses its footing, and Christ’s character takes its place.

Reflection Questions:

• How often do you listen to understand instead of to respond?
• How can you show genuine curiosity toward someone close to you today?