There’s an ache that comes when I read of miracles and stories. Often, I find the stories being shared after the rejoicing and the dawn of the morning has come. Yet, when the rejoicing comes, I’m the one thinking of the person left on the other side. What of the man who didn’t get chosen? I wonder what happened to him… What of the one who is praying ever so fervently for the same prayer as you…but doesn’t get the happily ever after of here’s what God did for me. What about the ones God tells not to go? There are no guarantees that our prayers will be answered exactly how we like. Even the disciples are told they do not know what they’re asking. But somewhere in the midst God works through the process. The heart-wrenching climb up the mountain of dying to self. From being thrown in a pit to being carried off to Egypt to a prison sentence, I imagine Joseph at the time didn’t run around thinking surely God intended all of this for good. Yet, hindsight is 20/20. He stepped back to give glory to God. When David was hiding in a cave did he say oh yes this is exactly where I’m supposed to be? Or what of how Esther stepped forth to risk her life? And then there’s always Job who lost everything.
The challenge is to trust God in the process. To wrestle another day. Sometimes even to be brave enough to pray that same pray one more time. Or sometimes to cry the tears, grieve, and say, “God, if that’s not for me…that’s okay. You’re still good.”