What God Wouldn’t Let me Ignore:
“Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’”– 2 Corinthians 12:8–9
I’ve asked God to fix things more times than I can count. The thing, the person, the heartbreak, the situation that loops on repeat like a scratched record in my life. I’ve brought it to Him broken, loud, ugly-crying, and exhausted. I’ve handed it over with clenched fists and whispered prayers that sounded more like demands, but still, it lingers. He hasn’t “fixed” it yet.
And that’s where my faith gets gritty and shaken.
Because we know He can. That’s never been the question. He could snap His fingers, breathe a word, or move a mountain, and yet – He doesn’t. Not always, and sometimes, not ever. At least not in the way we expected, or in the time we hoped.
In the early days of my faith, I used to think delay meant denial. That unanswered prayer was the same as unheard or unnoticed. Sometimes, though, the not-fixing is the answer.
Sometimes, it’s in the refining. I heard this story once – from a Sunday School teacher maybe, or a coach – I don’t even remember. It’s about a man the Lord told to push against an immovable rock. The man pushed for years as hard as he could, but the rock wouldn’t move. Finally, frustrated and angry, the man asked the Lord why He made him waste so many years pushing a rock that was impossible to move. The Lord’s answer was, “I asked you to push the rock. I didn’t ask you to move it. Look at your arms, back, and legs and how strong and muscular they’ve become. You have been obedient. And now I will reward you by moving the rock for you.” That’s all paraphrased, and you can find the whole story here on a page I swear I had not seen before I started writing this post. I came up with Still Waters on my own, I promise…
The point is that sometimes the real work happens not from a positive response, but in the waiting, in the depending, in the obedience. It happens in the place where we have nothing left but Him because that’s when we start to really hone our faith and nurture the seeds of belief and trust in the Lord. It’s the same thing as knowing something all your life, but then realizing it makes it more profound.
Paul begged three times for his thorn to be removed. Three. And God’s answer wasn’t, “Sure, let me take care of that real quick.” It was, “My grace is sufficient.” In other words: No. But I will meet you in the no.
I don’t love that. I’d rather have a miracle and be full of thankfulness and gratefulness than to have a lesson and admit I needed to learn something I didn’t already know. I don’t like being treated like a child, but that’s what we are to Him. We don’t know how to talk or walk, and God gets frustrated trying to teach us. I have given him five and a half decades of frustration – I’m sure of it.
And as the Judds would say… ‘Why Not Me‘?
My thorns have been plentiful. There was a season in my life where every prayer felt like a voicemail. Nobody on the other end of the line. I’d talk, cry, beg – and then nothing. No whisper. No breakthrough. No shift in the storm. Just silence. I had dreams! I wanted to work in the music industry; I wanted to be a sports journalist; I wanted a house… and in almost 55 years, none of that has happened. Feelings of failure and insufficiency have plagued me my entire life. But God said NO.
I kept asking God to fix something (my failure and insufficiency!) that felt unfixable without divine intervention. I believed He could. I knew the stories – healing the sick, calming the storm, raising the dead. So why wasn’t He stepping in for me? I just wanted a cool job and a kitchen!
I watched other people get miracles, and I always celebrated them because that’s what love means. A part of me, though, grieved for me, and I figuratively stared at the sky, shook my fist, and said, “God!? What gives?” And as the Judds would say… ‘Why Not Me’? (I know they are not singing those words in this context…. you don’t have to teach “Judd” to me, I assure you.)
What I didn’t realize for so many years was that while I was begging for a fix to my broken life, God was building something deeper in me. He didn’t change my situation – but He started changing me in it. Because sometimes, fixing it would be easier – but it wouldn’t be better.
Maybe if He had fixed it too fast, I’d have skipped the part where I learned how to hold on in the dark, or how to trust Him when He’s quiet. Or how to be okay even when the outcome doesn’t swing in my favor. Maybe I’d have missed the part where I became someone steadier. Kinder. More real. Less judgmental about my own standing in life. And funnier. Let’s not forget how funny I really am.
I still believe in miracles, though. I still ask for healing. I still want pain to end faster.
But I don’t want the careers I used to want, and I don’t even want a kitchen. You just have to clean it all the time.
But I’ve learned to stop treating God’s silence as absence. Sometimes He is not ignoring you or me. He’s just sitting in the hard place with us, letting something grow we wouldn’t have chosen – but probably wouldn’t trade later.
Prayer for the Long Haul
Lord, help me trust You when nothing changes. When the days and years go by and I can’t see Your hand, I need to know You haven’t let go.
If this hits home, explore more in The Deep End.