For the last few weeks, I have felt like God has kept saying no. It seems like my prayers just aren’t good enough. I’m not seeing results, or if I am seeing results, they are not what I expected. It has been a test of my faith.
I have been praying, but the Lord’s answers to my prayers seem unclear to me. I feel like I am sitting in algebra class, listening to the teacher and I just don’t get it. I feel like all the other kids in the class are getting the answers right and understanding the lesson, but I am just confused and frustrated. I feel like a failure.
I feel like a kid who has soared through math until I hit this conundrum of a subject that I am just not understanding. It destroys my confidence. I feel like the kid who throws up his hands and says, “I hate math!”
It is not math or algebra I hate, or in this real-life analogy, it certainly is not prayer that I hate. Prayer is something I have depended on. Prayer is something I have breathed. It is a part of me, and I imagine that my dying breath will be a prayer.
The frustration comes from not understanding why I have this waiting time, while others seem to keep moving forward with their plans. Maybe it’s like sitting at a red light and having to wait for cars to pass until it is safe to go ahead. Yet so often in my life I have looked back and been glad that God didn’t answer my prayer quickly. In retrospect, I could see His plan more clearly, and then I could see the way I was supposed to go.
It all comes down to gratitude and trust—gratitude that the Lord has always shown me the way and trust that it will again be made clear in His perfect time. So, in the meantime, I wait. And I thank Him for all of His many, many blessings in my life, and I trust that He is in perfect control.