The Flush of Perseverance
A couple of weeks ago, our main toilet started acting up. When you pushed down the handle to flush, nothing would happen. Typically, if you tried it again, it would flush. It was a bit annoying, but overall, not a big deal. However, the problem has progressively gotten worse.
Now, if it doesn't flush on the first try, you have to pump the handle until it finally decides to flush. But, when I say you have to pump the handle, take note that it's not quite as simple as it sounds. No, as we've discovered, there is a particular way and speed at which you have to pump it. It will not work if you pump too quickly or too slowly.
Do you have any idea how ridiculous it feels to stand there trying to pump at just the right speed simply to get the toilet to flush?
Prayer Works Better Than Worry
My daily devotions have been remarkably persistent lately. Trust God. Don't complain. Believe when things seem impossible. You know what that means, right? A test was coming!
Saturday was our annual community-wide family fun day, our biggest outreach event of the year. Picture bouncy houses, obstacle courses, carnival games, and excited children everywhere. It takes an army of volunteers to run each station smoothly.
As the coordinator, I'd been struggling with the volunteer roster. We were already at least two people short, forcing me to consider doubling up some staff. Several potential helpers responded with those dreaded words: "I might be able to help, but I can't commit."
The anxiety was building as the day approached. Then Friday evening, the phone rang. One of our core volunteers had a family crisis and needed to bow out. Completely understandable, but my heart sank. I took a deep breath, committed everything to God (again), and told myself I absolutely would not panic.
When Prayer Disappoints
"No, I don't believe in God, and if there is one, I don't want anything to do with Him."
The words were spoken with such anger that I paused before responding, but I couldn't ignore the urging from the Holy Spirit.
"May I ask why?" I inquired.
"Because I prayed just like I was taught, but God didn't answer. He didn't give me what I asked for. So either there isn't a God, or He's just not reliable."
My heart sank. This was not the first time I'd heard this reasoning for doubting God and His goodness. Since arriving in Wales, I've encountered this view repeatedly. How does the concept of prayer become so misconstrued? Where do people get the idea that God is merely a genie in a bottle, waiting to grant their every request? Sadly, it often starts in our pulpits.
An Unyielding Grey
I thumbed through my Bible again, looking for some verse to leap off the page and shout, "This is the way—walk in it!" Silence.
I prayed until my knees ached. "Lord, just tell me what to do. Should I continue in this particular area of the ministry, or should I spend more time in this other area? Should we continue in our current "game plan" or pursue a new approach? A simple yes or no would be lovely!"
But heaven remained quiet. No burning bush. No writing on the wall. Just the persistent, foggy grey of uncertainty.
Have you been there? That spiritual twilight zone where you've done everything "right"—prayed fervently, studied Scripture diligently, sought godly counsel—and still find yourself standing at a crossroads without a traffic light in sight?
It's maddening, isn't it? Especially for those of us who like plans, clarity, and knowing exactly which box to tick.
Hidden in Plain Sight
Several months ago, I wrote a devotion about the disappearance of Tess' beloved toy, Robby the Robot. The poor pup was beside herself with worry over her missing companion, and despite our thorough searches, Robby remained elusive. We eventually concluded she must have taken it outside and lost it in the bushes and bramble.
A couple of days ago, I was sitting in the dining room when Tess came in and began pawing frantically under the bookshelf. She stretched and reached as if trying desperately to recover something trapped beneath. My first thought? Kibble. If you've ever seen a terrier play with a treat-dispensing toy, you know food goes flying in all directions.
I grabbed my duster with the extended handle and poked under the bookshelf. Yes, there was kibble under there, but that wasn't all.