Peace in Annoyance

You know, I heard something in a homily the other day (I'm blessed to be at a school where I hear about saints, canon law, theology, sacraments, and God's love and forgiveness on different occasions):

"lots of people try, but saints persevere."

But sometimes I don't know where they get their strength. Take tonight: my husband, for the millionth time in the two months we've been married, annoys me with the same mistake he's made before. He didn't mean to do it ("I do that which I do not want to do..."), but that doesn't really make it better for me. How do I persevere in virtue here? I was reading St. Paul, founder of the Passionists, on this his feast day (pray for us!), and in his diary he spoke about depressions and numerous sufferings, and yet none of these robbed him of his peace. After all, a saint who's sad is a sad saint (thank you Butler, author of the English Lives of the Saints). But how do I keep this peace? Here's an excerpt:

"It seems to me it is similar to a baby at the breast of its mother. With its mouth it sucks the milk even though hands and feet are gyrating about. Head can twist, bow, and move, but always it takes its milk because it never takes its mouth from the breast of its mother. It would certainly do better if it remained quiet instead of behaving as I said. Nevertheless, milk continues to flow down its throat because it never takes its mouth from the mother’s breast. So it is with the soul. Our will is the mouth and never ceases to imbibe the milk of holy love, even though the powers of intellect and memory go astray. It is true that the will is more invigorated when all powers remain together and quiet. Since the Lord does not wish me to understand it otherwise, I cannot better explain myself." St. Paul of the Cross, Diary of Friday, Nov. 29th.

He was only 26. St. Therese, one of my favorite saints, was only 24 when she died. If these can have profound experiences of the True God at such young ages, surely I am capable of just praying better and more often in humility. Maybe if I prayed 'all the time,' then I could have His peace in my heart constantly, as St. Paul did. I remember (too lazy to look this up at present - that's irony for you, folks) in Introduction to the Devout Life, that St. Francis de Sales would encourage the reader, the lover of God (Philothea), to try to hold the attitude gained in morning prayer in himself with the delicacy one would use with a cup filled to the brim. If I prayed more often, increasing this habitus until I might pray continuously, then perhaps the little annoyances would truly seem little and would not tip over the cup of peace in my heart.

It is in the everyday choices that we become saints.

There is so much more to talk about here, but I must go: in closing, here's a quote from St. Therese that somehow comforts me, to know that having little annoyed moments is normal and can be occasions of holy acts:

"If ... the devil tries to show me the faults of a sister, I hasten to think of all her virtues and of how good her intentions are. I tell myself that though I have seen her commit a sin, she may very well have won many spiritual victories of which I know nothing because of her humility. What seems a fault to me may very well be an act of virtue because of the intention behind it." - St. Therese

Well, I suppose that "all that remains for us then is to fight. When we have not the strength, it is then that Jesus fights for us." (St. Therese).