God Doesn't Always Answer Quickly

“Sometimes faith is walking away from the throne without an answer, knowing the question is safe with God” 

Why some questions must be carried with God before they can be answered

Soul Weathered contains fifty-two devotions.

One for every week of the year.

There's a reason for that.

It isn't simply because men don't like to read.

It isn't because I thought people couldn't handle more.

It's because I've learned something over the years about walking with God.

Sometimes it takes time to hear Him.

I've gone to God with questions I desperately wanted answered.

Questions about my family.

My ministry.

My future.

People I was trying to help.

Decisions I needed to make.

Situations that felt urgent.

And most of the time, I didn't receive an immediate answer.

I prayed.

I asked.

I listened.

Nothing.

So I asked again.

And waited.

Sometimes for days.

Sometimes for weeks.

I've often wondered why.

Why doesn't God just answer?

Why doesn't He give me the direction I need?

Why doesn't He clear up the confusion?

Why doesn't He tell me what to do?

I've come to believe that sometimes God allows me to wait because He's teaching me to pursue Him.

And perhaps even more importantly...

He's teaching me to trust Him.

There have been exceptions.

There have been moments when I desperately needed a word from God and He gave it immediately.

One of those moments is recorded in Soul Weathered.

My daughter was in the hospital.

She was struggling.

Her faith was being tested.

And I was desperate for something to give her.

God gave me a word.

It wasn't an easy word.

It wasn't necessarily the word I wanted.

But it was the word she needed.

There have been other times when the answer didn't come so quickly.

I've spent much of my life walking with people.

Guiding men.

Leading ministry.

Helping people through marriages, families, failures, crises, and difficult decisions.

And I've made mistakes.

I've felt the pressure to give someone an answer.

They're hurting.

They're desperate.

They want direction.

And because I care about them, I want to help.

So I reach into my experience.

My wisdom.

My good intentions.

And I give them something.

Advice.

Counsel.

A solution.

A direction.

But sometimes it falls flat.

It isn't what they needed.

It wasn't God's word for that moment.

It was mine.

Over the years, God has taught me a different way.

When I don't know what to do, I've learned to take the question to Him.

The concern.

The decision.

The person I'm worried about.

The situation I can't fix.

The mystery I don't understand.

I bring it to God.

And then I leave it there.

At least, I'm learning to.

That's harder than it sounds.

Because leaving something with God means surrendering my need to solve it.

It means surrendering my need to have an answer.

It means admitting that the weight of the situation was never mine to carry in the first place.

So I bring it before Him.

And in my mind and heart, I lay it at His feet.

Then I walk away.

Not because the situation doesn't matter.

But because I believe God is already there.

That's something I've come to understand about God.

He isn't simply present with me today.

He's already present in the moment I'm worried about tomorrow.

He's already present in the conversation I haven't had.

The decision I haven't made.

The problem I haven't encountered.

The outcome I can't see.

God is eternally present.

The moment I'm afraid of walking into...

He's already there.

And He has everything I'll need when I arrive.

So I leave the question with Him.

And I continue walking.

Sometimes nothing happens for days.

Then I'm driving somewhere.

Running an errand.

Standing in a river.

Sitting quietly in the morning.

Talking with a friend.

And suddenly...

something comes.

An insight.

A thought.

A realization.

A direction.

Sometimes it arrives so clearly that I know exactly where it came from.

Other times, God answers through someone else.

I'll call the person I was worried about and discover God has already been working.

He spoke through their wife.

Their child.

A friend.

Something they read.

Something they experienced.

While I was worrying about what I needed to do...

God was already doing something.

I've seen this happen more times than I can count.

That's one reason I wrote Soul Weathered the way I did.

One devotion a week.

Read it.

Sit with it.

Think about it.

Pray through it.

Walk with the questions.

Return to the Scriptures.

Listen.

Come back Monday.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Thursday.

Friday.

See if anything has changed.

Pay attention to what God may be saying.

And if nothing comes...

keep walking with Him.

Maybe two weeks later, something becomes clear.

Maybe a month later, you suddenly understand something you couldn't see before.

God may speak through a still, small voice.

Through Scripture.

Through your wife.

Your child.

A friend.

A conversation.

Something you see.

Something you experience.

An unexpected moment in the middle of an ordinary day.

God has many ways of reaching us.

The question is whether we're willing to wait long enough to hear Him.

I think sometimes we want answers from God more than we want God Himself.

We want direction.

Solutions.

Clarity.

Relief.

But God wants relationship.

He wants us to pursue Him.

To trust Him.

To lean on Him.

To bring Him our struggles.

Our doubts.

Our mysteries.

Our hopes.

Our fears.

And then to trust Him enough to leave them there.

I'm learning that faith isn't always receiving an answer.

Sometimes faith is walking away from the throne without one.

Knowing the question is safe with God.

Knowing the person you're worried about is safe in His hands.

Knowing the future you're afraid of is already inhabited by His presence.

And continuing to walk.

Listening.

Watching.

Trusting.

That's how Soul Weathered is meant to be read.

Slowly.

Not to finish it.

Not to consume it.

But to live with it.

To give God time to use a question.

A Scripture.

A memory.

A struggle.

A sentence.

To begin a conversation that may take days, weeks, or even months.

Because God isn't in a hurry.

And perhaps one of the greatest things He's teaching us while we wait for an answer...

is that we can trust Him enough to keep walking without one.