When I was about 12 years old, I remember sitting in a Sunday School class. The teacher asked if anyone had a prayer request. At that time in my life, I was extremely impatient. I hated being late for anything. I couldn’t stand it when I had to wait for someone else before we could get going. I remember expressing my frustration to my mom several times when she was not ready to go. When my verbal blasts didn’t work, I tried non-verbal cues. This was my favorite one. I would walk up to her. And I would reach out my left wrist which was wrapped in my watch. I would snap it around and check my watch in her sight line. And then I would just look at her and shake my head. Very subtle. It never worked. It was during this time when the teacher asked that question.