Oh me of little faith...
Weekly, I ask Facebook a single question. Typically I post a short anonymous survey regarding Christian living. We discuss the results on Sunday in Bible Fellowship. When I run out of steam I just type a quick question like the one this past Sunday:
What prayer has God answered in your life, or in the life of someone you love? Did you get what you asked for?
And man! The responses...
The comments showed consistently that God's answer to prayer are
- Given in love
Of course you'd think that you have to ask (God) a question to get an answer (from Him).
I don't always ask him for things. I take a different approach when I'm really needing to hear from my Father.
Like Hezekiah and Job, I'm good at lamenting my circumstances.
I'm a whiner.
Though I can't remember, I think I might have been the kid that cried, "I'mmmm thirrrrsty," rather than asking for a drink.
I know I tend to be that way in prayer anyway. I have a perplexing philosophy.
God knows what I desire... and more importantly, I trust Him to bring about those things in my life which I need... So why ask?
That doesn't stop me from complaining to God while I'm waiting for him to respond to the thing (that in trust) I didn't ask for.
I've been working on my feeble, fussy faith. I had the perfect opportunity to do so today.
Shortly before Jason left town this morning our schnauzer vomited and diarrhea-ed both inside and outside the crate, as an omen (I believe) to a messy afternoon on the way.
Around 3:30 after getting a call about an evening meeting I needed to attend, I got a call from our oldest daughter, Hallie, who was stranded with a dead battery at the high school. I grabbed Hallie, then our youngest, Rylie, and took Hallie to work. I found jumper cables and swung by to grab my oldest so that he could help jump (jumper?) her car.
Let's just say it was cold and we hurried. After zooming back to the house to take care of supper before going back to get Hallie from work, I looked for my phone... which lay on the hood of my car last I remembered.
I searched my purse and both cars a handful of times. I borrowed Rylie's phone and called myself while straining my ear wishfully to hear a faint ring somewhere within the seats...or hood...or a pocket on my sweatshirt I might have forgotten about. No luck.
I jumped back in the car (with my gas tank almost empty) and drove slow; retracing my path...knowing that if I found my phone somewhere on the road, it would probably be in bad shape.
I might mention that Jason has an iPhone finder which has the capability of showing the GPS location of my phone. Too bad he was on a flight to Nashville.
While I drove, I prayed.
I reminded God I needed help . Not just to find my phone. I simply acknowledged my need for him. I attempted to focus on him instead of my circumstances. This isn't anything new. This is my "pre-complaint" stage of prayer, before I get impatient.
I drove back to the high school keeping my eyes concentrated on the pavement. Still didn't find it. Jason called after landing and found that my phone was somewhere close to Nashville Ave.
Believe it or not, the phone had traveled on my hood from the high school to 18th St. and all the way down Canal. After making two more turns it made a corner and then shot across the driver's side hood all the way to the passengers side and into a yard...without my knowing.
And it's unscathed.
My phone took a little a joyride today. I think I might I have taken one too. God's reminder that He's near was too good for me to have thought up.
While Jason was on the way to Nashville, TN. God showed up on my Nashville.
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy. Psalm 94:19