I’ve been praying for something for a long, long time. It hasn’t happened yet. It seems good. It seems right. I can find all kinds of Scriptures that promise it should happen. But it hasn’t. And some days, like today, I get tired. I see other people have this same thing that I pray for, and in my weaker moments, it seems unfair that they have what I want.
I bet I’m not the only one who feels this way.
The woman down the street who has three different children by three different men, and complains — loudly and often — about all of them, while your womb and arms are empty.
The guy who just graduated college and got the job you applied for, with a salary that is more than you ever dreamed of. Meanwhile, your savings account has maybe one more mortgage in it, and you’ve started to apply to fast-food restaurants, even though you have more experience and education than people half your age doing the jobs you wanted, but didn’t make past the first interview.
The co-worker who is going through her second divorce in five years, while you just endured yet another barrage by well-meaning relatives who wondered why you’re still single.
The friend in your book club who smokes half a pack a day and never gets sick, but just last year you buried your mother, who never smoked or ate fast food, yet got cancer anyway.
The list could go on and on, but you get the point. It seems so unfair that bad things happen to good people. And maybe it seems equally unfair that good things happen to bad people.
And we wonder where God is in the midst of it.
We quote Scriptures like Matthew 17:20, “ Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”
Or, John 14:14, “You may ask me for anything in My name, and I will do it.”
Maybe 1 John 5:15, “And if we know that He hears us — whatever we ask — we know that we have what we asked of Him.”
Or Mark 11:24, “Therefore , I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
And so we read those verses and we say the right prayers and we do the right thing and it feels like there is radio silence from Heaven.
And maybe we get mad and yell and stomp our feet and tell Him it isn’t fair.
Maybe we fast and we pray and we get other people to intercede on our behalf, and it seems that if we just say the right words enough, we will tip the Heavens in our favor.
And still, nothing. The sickness lingers. The crib is empty. The hope vanishes. The husband leaves. The bank account hits zero. The weight of unfairness becomes more than we can handle. We question if maybe those verses don’t apply to us. After all, why would He tell us all these things, when they clearly aren’t working for us?
One of my favorite songs right now is “Oh My Soul” by Casting Crowns: “Oh my soul, you are not alone / There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know / One more day, He will make a way / Let Him show you how you can lay it down / Cause you’re not alone.”
One more day.
I remember years ago I read a powerful book. I wish I could remember the title. I was at my parent’s home, after my mother had been diagnosed with the brain tumor that would eventually take her life. The book was written by a father, whose little boy died of cancer. He wrote that, as he wrestled with God, and begged for his son’s life, he was determined not to turn God into his own Aladdin.
Isn’t that what we want sometimes?
I mean, we want God to be sovereign and we want to trust that He knows best and that He cares for us and loves us — but we also want Him to give us what we want when we want it.
Sometimes my prayers are sincere and humble and open and submissive. And sometimes they are, “OK, God, here’s what You said You would do, and here’s what I’ve done for You, so now it’s time for You to give me what I’m asking of You. Please and thank you.”
I place myself on equal footing with God, trying to force His hand to give me what I want.
If I’m honest, I want Him to be my own Aladdin. I want to rub the lamp and have God grant me my wishes.
Except that, thankfully, isn’t how He works. Does He hear and answer our prayers? Always. Always always always. Just not always in the time and space and way we want Him to.
I don’t have any idea why bad things happen to good people, and why some people seem to ride through life without any difficulties, while others seem to have one struggle after another. I don’t have a clue why God says yes to some things and no to some other things. I don’t know why children get leukemia and the money runs out and the marriage ends and the pregnancy test is negative and the drunk driver took out an entire family.
But what I do know is that this world is not our home, and that someday it will all make sense.
John 16:33, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
And I know that, while He may not give us what we want (at least when we want it), our feelings matter to Him. He isn’t an abstract being looking down on us, smirking at our misfortune. He cares. He listens. He hears. He sits in our pain with us.
Ps. 56:18, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”
Someday none of our present struggles will matter. They matter to Him now, but they will not matter to us in just a little while.
2 Cor. 4:17, “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”
And someday — someday — it will all make sense. Maybe He is saying no now so he can say yes to something later. Maybe there is something that we need to learn in the waiting. Maybe we need to walk through the valley to learn something for the next season. Maybe we don’t need to know why.
1 Cor. 13:12, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”
So for those of you, like me, who are in the waiting, hold on. This season is not the end of your story. He sees you, He knows you, He loves you. His plans are for your good. Always.
Always.
“Oh my soul, you are not alone / There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know / One more day, He will make a way / Let Him show you how you can lay it down / Cause you’re not alone.”
