I never realised how terrifying faith was
till the day I prayed with my young daughter that God would do something, and
realised that he might not.
We’d been out shopping and found the
perfect Christmas present for someone - a set of novelty cookie cutters for a wonderful
baker in our lives. In pink. Because, of course, everything is better coloured
pink (or so my daughters tell me!). Only, we’d didn't realise how perfect the
set was until we arrived home.
So, we sat down and asked God to save us a
set and have it waiting for us when we went back to the shops in the morning. I
don’t think I’ve ever prayed a scarier prayer. It wasn’t that I didn’t think
God could do it – I had complete faith that he could – it was that he might
not. And, unlike just me praying it and knowing God would still be faithful if
he didn’t answer it, this affected my daughter too. My daughter who’s only just
learning who God is. My daughter who might very well decide God can’t be
trusted based on this one prayer. Here’s me, telling her God can do anything, and he
just might not. Seriously, scary.
So, we dropped back in to the store the
next day, me selfishly hoping my daughter had forgotten all about that prayer
while desperately hoping the set would be there so I could remind her of it. Of
course, she hadn’t. As we were walking in, she told me that we had to remember
to get the cookie cutters God had saved us. In that moment, I was as excited as I was filled with dread. God wouldn’t disappoint a child with such faith, would he?
I just knew the cookie cutters would be there. I could picture the one set
left there on the shelves for us. Proof to my daughter, and me, that God cared
about the little things and that prayer is powerful.
They weren’t. The shelf was completely
empty. I even tracked down a shop assistant and asked if they had any more.
They didn’t. Sold out the first day. In every store.
Despite our prayer, God hadn’t saved us a
set. I had no idea what to say to my daughter. But it didn’t upset her like I
thought it would. I think I was more disappointed. She just said something
along the lines of, ‘oh well, maybe next time, or maybe we’ll get her something
else!’
I’d love to say we sat down when we got
home and had some big theological discussion about it, but we didn’t. For one
thing, she’s only five, and the truth is, it just didn’t seem to bother her.
She wasn’t disappointed with God. She wasn’t devastated the cookie cutters
weren’t there. She was already thinking what other thing we might be able to
get instead. Something even better than pink cookie cutters!
I don’t know why God answers some prayers
the way we want and not others, but I have to believe he has a reason. And I
have to believe that it is good.
Faith will always be scary because it comes
with no guarantees. God comes with no ‘formula’. We could be the most
‘spiritual’ Christians in the world, pray twenty-four hours a day, fast for
days on end, and ask only what we are certain will bring about others’
salvations and is in line with God’s heart – and still have God say no. No, I
will not give you that. No, I will not heal them. No, I will not change her heart. No…
But I wonder how often ‘no’ isn’t the end
of the sentence. We walk off, angry or disappointed at the answer God gives only
to miss what he says next:
“Not yet.”
I wonder how many times we pray, desperate
for something, certain only one answer will do – and God is sitting there on
his throne, not stressed or flustered at all by our pleas but calm, saying simply 'wait'.
Just wait. I’ve got this. I haven’t
forgotten you. I know you want this, I see your heart and how much you ache to
see this prayer realised. I do too. But wait. Something better is coming. I
know that’s not what you want to hear and I know you don’t understand but I’m
not finished. I’m not done yet. There’s more to the story. Just wait.
The God of the Cookie Cutters isn't done yet.
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