Of all the unanswered prayers, “What am I supposed to do?” has to be the most frustrating. Here’s the scenario: I’m facing a decision that feels consequential. It may have to do with how to respond in a relationship or which direction to take in life. Or, I might wonder how to phrase a question or statement, not knowing how it will land with the person who hears it.
I ask God for help. The decision to pray seems natural, given that I am to pray in every circumstance and to learn dependence on God. I pray, and I wait. I hear nothing. I can’t wait forever; the situation always seems to be time-sensitive. When I can no longer wait, I act. And I hope that I have made the right decision. Or at least a good one.
Frustration
To be clear, God has chosen not to answer other prayers. Some have been more painful than this one, as when I pray for truly significant items – healing of a loved one, for example. For all intents and purposes, my prayer seems to have fallen on deaf ears, but my interpretation is that it has been met with a hard heart. God didn’t care enough.
Other silent responses to my earnest prayers have been disappointing or confusing. I feel let down by God and don’t understand why He responds the way He is. Those hurt also.
But none are as frustrating as asking for direction and receiving silence as a response. When I can no longer see over the pile of infrequent answers to prayer because the pile of unanswered prayers is so high, I wonder if the Holy Ghost has ghosted me – a particular kind of cruel.
Holding pattern
The feeling is similar to when I use Google Maps and lose connectivity. I feel lost and disoriented, not hearing the pleasant voice telling me when and where to turn. I want to to pull over to the side of the road to reboot my phone or wait for it to catch up. My frustration mounts as the turn I think I’m supposed to take approaches. Eventually, I have to decide on my own. Does it still count if I yell at my phone in an empty car and no one can hear me?
It’s like being put on hold, waiting for someone to come online to answer my question. My mind travels to many dark places; my mood becomes sour; I feel the anger bubbling within. Just answer the question!
I may be more prone to this prayer dysfunction than others. I hate making decisions. I scour the web, hoping to discover that someone else has faced the same predicament, and found a solution that worked. If I find a fellow wanderer, my heart delights, knowing I can mimic them rather than charting my course. I search again with different phrases when I don’t find the answer. As the deadline for a decision looms, my frustration grows. Whoever coined the term deadline understood the feeling.
Old tricks fail
I used to work through the quandary by telling myself I already knew the answer. As long as I decided in every situation to love God first and to love my neighbor with my words or actions, I would be fine. Against such answers, there is no law. Just love and move forward.
Sometimes, however, the decision is an either/or. Do I go north or south? The direction I choose will chart my course. Although I can change course later, I will have wasted time…or money….or effort. Surely, God wants me to live life efficiently. A word or even a nudge occasionally would keep me on the path and on task. But based on my unanswered prayers, it would appear God is not as concerned with efficiency as I am.
When faced with an either/or decision, I remind myself that God had only one tree in the Garden of Eden from which Adam and Eve were not to eat. There is incredible freedom in seeing all the other trees and choices as valid options. Taste and see that the fruit is good was my motto.
I encourage myself that in most cases, the pursuit of the “right answer” stands in the way – a peculiar sort of perfectionism – of making a “good decision.” The logic behind my choice is at least as important as the solution itself. My mantra became, “Choose wisely” not “Choose correctly.” That helped.
The road traveled
Haltingly, I make my way through life. Unsure of myself and my direction, I keep plowing forward timidly. Like walking in the dark without a flashlight, I close my eyes and rely on my other senses to guide me. Each step follows slowly after the other as I confirm that my feet are on solid ground. When I encounter an obstacle, I feel my way around it. I stub my toe, curse under my breath, and keep moving. I have places to go (the bathroom), and time waits for no man.
Today, another puzzle is before me. The familiar angst I feel is back, but it’s robbed of its power. I know that I have survived countless other decisions I seemingly made alone. Had I known the path I would follow, I might not have chosen it. But it has led me to a good place. Did God work mysteriously through the silence? Was He forming something in me through the struggle? Or did He turn my misdirection into the direction He wanted me to go?
Just like I didn’t know which way to go as I approached the fork in the road, I don’t know how I arrived where I did. Strangely, I seem to be right where God wants me to be. I will follow if God answers my prayers and gives me clear direction. If not, I will still move forward, trusting that He will get me where He wants me to be.
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