"Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue
ruler, 'Don't be afraid; just believe.'"
Mark 5:36
This past Sunday, my pastor said something that struck
me. (That's not unusual. It is his job.) He said that one of the reasons God
delays answers to our prayers is to remind us that we do not compel God to
answer. No matter the legitimacy of our
request or the strength of our faith, the ultimate action of fulfillment comes from God, and He will
dispose of His blessings in His time and also for His purposes. God isn't bound by the limitations that bind
human intermediaries, so it's a mistake to get impatient with God when waiting
for something you have asked for. He can
take His own time and still make things happen.
His sermon hit home because we have recently had a prayer unexpectedly
answered, and this past week was the day I started mentioning at church . . .
that I'm pregnant.
This felt like a long time in coming. I know people who have waited much longer
than 4 years between children, but there's just something about waiting for a
child that makes any period seem just shy of eternity. Maybe it's the way each monthly cycle holds
out the hope of a different result. We prayed. We trusted.
Then finally we gave up. I
stopped asking for answers. I learned to
ruthlessly discard that little nagging hope that said, "But it could be
different this month." We gave away all our baby stuff to those less
fortunate, and I started thinking about how soon we could afford to start
adopting. We involved ourselves in house
searching, in setting up a socially stimulating summer for the Boogaloo, and in
trying to launch my tutoring
business.
Then, out of the blue, about two weeks ago, just as complete
though transient chaos hit our house search, I started feeling odd. I
tabulated my symptoms and thought, "That's not just wacked out
hormones. That has to be something
substantial." I didn't want to get my hopes up. I'd been disappointed too many times. So I waited a whole week beyond my period
date before I took a pregnancy test.
It was positive, obviously.
Then began the elation and the mortification and no small
bit of silliness. (What if it's twins?!)
But among all those feelings was the strong feeling that we had
underestimated God. Or perhaps
pre-empted is the right word. I won't
call the feeling we had been acting on doubt, but we had decided what we could
stand to hope for, and a baby had ceased to be one of them. We shifted our focus (as we probably should
have a lot earlier) to the things that
we were responsible for -- when we could get our loans paid off, when we could
afford to adopt, when we could buy a house (well, we thought that was under our
control. Now we're waiting on prayer for
that one too.). And then, all of a sudden, there was a baby.
So what should we learn from all this? We're really not in charge of as much as we
think we are? Never get rid of anything
because you never know when you might need it again? God has a sense of humor? Church people love
to help pregnant people? (seriously, all we had to do was ask and sometimes,
not even that. Thank you.) Perhaps, as the pastor said, we simply need to trust. Trust that this is right for now, and
tomorrow will be right for tomorrow.
And then rejoice in each blessing with gratitude because God didn't have to give it. With a new baby on the way, that is a very timely lesson.
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