Patience is one of those qualities that’s easy to admire, but much harder to live out – especially when nothing seems to be happening.
During the Rabbitohs vs Tigers match this past Saturday, Adam Doueihi was asked at half-time about the Tigers’ approach after the Rabbitohs had defended multiple sets on their line. His answer was simple: they were happy to stay there.
They knew they weren’t going to score every time, but they were committed to building pressure.
It’s a mindset that doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves.
Rugby league is built on moments. Tries, breaks, and big plays are what people remember. But those moments are often the result of something less noticeable – the willingness to stay disciplined, repeat efforts, and trust that what you’re doing will eventually pay off.
Eight sets on the line without scoring can look like frustration. Doueihi and the Tigers saw it as progress.
There’s something in that which speaks beyond the game.
It’s natural to want immediate results. In sport, in work, and even in our faith, we can fall into the trap of thinking that effort should quickly translate into outcome. When it doesn’t, it’s easy to become discouraged or to start questioning whether what we’re doing is actually working.
But not everything meaningful happens straight away.
Much of the spiritual life is built on consistency rather than visible success. Showing up to prayer when it feels dry. Continuing to strive for growth in areas where change feels slow. Choosing discipline over impulse, even when there’s no immediate reward.
From the outside, it can all look the same – repetitive, uneventful, even ineffective.
But like a team camped on the opposition line, something is taking shape.
In rugby league, sustained pressure eventually forces a response. A defensive line that holds firm early can begin to tire. Gaps appear, decisions slow, and what once looked solid starts to give way. The breakthrough, when it comes, is rarely accidental. It’s been built over time.
The same principle applies in the interior life. Growth often happens gradually, formed through repeated acts of faithfulness rather than one defining moment. It’s less about sudden transformation and more about steady formation.
That’s why composure matters.
Alongside individual patience, what stands out is trust in the team around you. Doueihi didn’t have to do it all himself; he relied on his teammates, trusted the plan, and kept faith that their combined effort would create the opportunity.
That mirrors how we’re called to live in community. In the spiritual life, patience isn’t just personal – it’s about supporting one another, sharing the load, and trusting that God’s work is happening through others as well as through ourselves. Sometimes, the breakthroughs we see are the result of countless unseen contributions, quietly building toward the moment when everything comes together.
The temptation, when results don’t come, is to force something – to abandon the process in search of a quicker outcome. But as Doueihi pointed out, there’s value in staying the course. In trusting that the effort itself is not wasted, even if the reward isn’t immediate.
It’s a quiet kind of confidence. One that isn’t dependent on instant success, but on the belief that what you’re doing is worthwhile.
Not every set ends in a try.
But sometimes, the sets that don’t are the ones that make it possible.
