I started today with the intention of keeping my eyes open for what Christ wanted to reveal to me. Truthfully, I’m not sure how well I did.
But over the years I’ve become convinced to my core that, though my prayers might wish otherwise, Jesus does not always press the magic button and activate His righteous desires in me right away. Just because I stumble upon His will in a particular area of my life, He doesn’t immediately open the floodgates of heaven.
His ways are higher than my ways. That is, He doesn’t operate using some binary, black and white formula that I can always understand and manipulate for my own security and well-being. Sometimes, He is seeking to take me down a mysterious, fiery path in order to burn away all that is not of Him and to sharpen me for His good purposes. Whatever they may be.
And so when I get to the end of the day — after the sun has set and our two toddlers have finally sunk into their beds — I am forced to confront my frustrations with what didn’t happen today, with what was supposed to happen in my day. And in my heart.