I was getting ready one morning, a few days before a weekend event that required me to be at full strength, when I lost my right contact lens.
I can’t see a thing without eye correction. I have fairly new glasses, and I wear them at home at night. But I chose the frames rather hurriedly and always wished I had picked a different pair. I’d certainly never wear them to a public function that involved a lot of personal interaction, at least not voluntarily.
I wasn’t yet 30 when I was forced to accept the fact that my so-called child-bearing years were over. Randy and I had spent three years trying to get pregnant, to no avail, and we had good reason to believe that any further attempts also would be futile.
We were at peace with our decision to leave the infertility roller coaster behind and move forward with adoption, but I still longed for spiritual closure. I didn’t want to parent my future children with one part of my heart still hoping for a “miracle baby.” I wanted to be all-in with God’s unfolding plan for our family.
I have a confession to make. When it comes to faith, I find it a bit easier to trust God in the midst of my own struggles than it is to wait on Him to come to the rescue of someone I love.
I don’t know why this is, or if there are others who feel this same way. I just know I’m feeling it deeply right now.
I don’t like to wait. I look up movie spoilers in the middle of the show. I always read the end of the book first.
Maybe it’s a control issue. Maybe it’s a trust issue.
Or maybe I’m just a finite human being who longs for a happy ending—and an easy way to get there.
I can’t make God answer my prayers in the way I want, when I want. I can’t force an outcome.
I’d like to, but I can’t.
I also can’t make other people respond how I might respond—or how I think I might respond—to any given trial. While God offers only one way to salvation, He relates to each mind and heart in a unique way, much like any other loving parent interacts with his or her children individually.
God’s plans for each of us are for our good—I truly believe that. Not in a cliche, pat-answer kind of way, but deep down—in that place where I trust His sovereignty even when the plans He unfolds don’t make any sense to me and might even seem to be the opposite of good.
I believe this, but as time drags on and nothing changes—at least nothing that’s readily apparent—I sometimes wonder.
What’s taking so long? What’s the point of all this? Is healing ever going to come?
I may be misinterpreting my own motivations here, but I honestly don’t think these questions stem from doubt or a lack of faith. They’re based on feelings, which are fickle. They ebb and flow, depending on all kinds of internal and external stimuli.
My faith, on the other hand, is based on a relationship with God, which is eternal. I believe every word of Jeremiah 32:17: “Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.”
I know God could remedy in an instant the situations in which my loved ones find themselves. When He doesn’t, it makes me sad to see them struggling or suffering. To feel otherwise would be somewhat less than human, I think.
And sadness does not indicate an absence or lack of faith. Faith has nothing to do with feelings, in fact. According to Hebrews 11:1, it’s “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”
I can’t see what’s going on behind the curtain, but I know there’s not a fake wizard back there. I believe that the God who is working in the lives of my loved ones is the same God who was with Jeremiah and all the other Old Testament prophets—the very same ones who wondered when God was going to act and yet wrote so eloquently about His compassion, protection, mercy and justice.
So while I keep praying for Him to move, my hope remains this: that “the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will personally restore, establish, strengthen, and support you after you have suffered a little.” (1 Peter 5:10)
♥ Lois
I can’t make God answer my prayers in the way I want, when I want. I can’t force an outcome. Share on X
Choosing “fruit” as my One Word for 2015 was a game changer for me.
My daily practice of praying for the fruit of the Spirit to grow in the hearts of every person in my house ushered in an acute awareness of how these lovely character traits function (or not) in my own life. It was convicting, to say the least, but also inspiring to see how God answered those prayers throughout the year.
When the time came to choose a new word for 2016, I thought about zeroing in on a single piece of the fruit of the Spirit. I still have room for improvement with all nine—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control—so I could hardly go wrong with any of them.
Even as I was mulling over these attributes, though, the word “satisfied” kept popping up. I dismissed it at first, because it didn’t seem all that relevant. I’m generally pretty content, and I wanted a word with more immediate application to my life.
Then the month of December wore on and I became increasingly frustrated (some might say obsessed) with relatively insignificant things that normally don’t bother me.
My hair (mostly my inability to find an affordable stylist who can cut it exactly how I want it, every time). Finding the perfect sweater/top/tunic for special Christmas events. The way the pounds seem to be redistributing themselves on my middle-aged body. My ever-increasing reliance on my reading glasses.
Shallow, I know. But after devoting an entire morning to fretting about the aforementioned hair issue, I realized that maybe I’m not as content as I thought.
The Song of the Month I shared a few days ago sealed the deal. After listening to Jordan Feliz sing this moving ballad a half a dozen times, I knew.
My One Word for 2016 had to be “satisfied.”
Notice I didn’t say “self-satisfied.” My word has nothing to do with being complacent, lackadaisical or smug.
It’s all about contentment—not with the clothes I wear, what I look like, what anyone else does (or doesn’t do) or what I’m able to accomplish, but in God alone. Expressed in verse form, it looks like this:
“Who do I have in heaven but You? And I desire nothing on earth but You. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart, my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:25-26)
When this kind of satisfaction infiltrates my world, I can rejoice more easily with those who rejoice. I can wait prayerfully for God to open doors instead of trying to drum up opportunities on my own.
I can embrace whatever season I’m in without longing for the good old days or wishing for some ideal future scenario. I can do my best with the gifts God has given me and trust that He will use my efforts for His glory—no matter the size or scope of the outcome.
I want all this to be true in my life, but I can’t make it happen on my own. So Psalm 90:14 is now my daily prayer—for me and for the others in my home:
“Satisfy us in the morning with Your faithful love so that we may shout with joy and be glad all our days.”
No matter the season, no matter the circumstances, no matter the struggle, He is enough.
Only by His grace can I live like I truly believe this.
And only then will my soul be satisfied.
♥ Lois
P.S. I’m linking up this week with Dawn Klinge at Grace & Truth, Lyli Dunbar at #ThoughtProvokingThursday, Kelly Balarie at Purposeful Faith, Jennifer Dukes Lee at #TellHisStory Holley Gerth at Coffee for Your Heart.
Happy New Year, dear readers!
My Tuesday post for this week will be about my new One Word for 2016. In preparation for that (and also give a huge hint about what that word is), here is the Song of the Month for January.
If I saw one article or blog post about how to have a stress-free, joy-filled, slowed-down, quiet-hearted holiday season this year, I saw at least two dozen.
In addition to providing useful tips and encouragement, these kinds of pieces are helpful because they give us hope that such results actually are possible, even as the glittering, decorating, purchasing and consuming accelerates around us.