“Satan cunningly tried to convince Adam and Eve that God’s withholding something from them was the same as withholding everything from them.” — Creation Unraveled, Matt Carter and Halim Suh
Every time I read those words, they resonate. I realize, again and again, “That’s exactly what I think when God doesn’t answer my prayer.” At least, that’s how I act. I believe the lie that God withholding one thing means he’s withholding everything.
The lie goes deeper than that; it roots itself in doubting God’s goodness and sovereignty. When I believe God’s withholding something, I start to question if he’s good, if he really loves me, if I can trust him. I start to back away, afraid to admit my complaints and hopes.
If I allow that motion to continue, I come untethered. I start to think that everything depends on me. The need for control and approval begin to, yet again, eat away at my heart and soul. God? No, no. I need to find a hiding place before he comes gliding through the garden. I can’t let him see me like this.
The irony is that God is supposed to be my hiding place. David says so in Psalm 32:7 (NASB). “You are my hiding place; You preserve me from trouble; / You surround me with songs of deliverance.”
God, not a sapling or a rose bush, keeps me safe. He shelters me. I’m supposed to run to him when I’m scared and uncertain, when I doubt that his plans are good or that he has plans concerning me.
Because God is good. He isn’t holding out on me; he’s already given me blessing on top of blessing: his precious Son, relationship and life everlasting with him. He gives good gifts, always, because he’s a good father. Like a father, he doesn’t give me things that will hurt me or that I’m not ready for.
God knows what he’s doing. He makes everything beautiful “in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-15, NASB). I, on the other hand, tend to make a mess of things. I try to make something beautiful and end up with a watery gray. God doesn’t. What he promises, he completes. What he says, he fulfills.
God isn’t holding out on you or me. He’s waiting for us to remember who he is, the big, big God who lavishes the riches of his grace on us (Ephesians 1:3-14, NASB). May we recall his goodness and grace the next time our hearts wonder and start to wander.
Image: Ricardo Lago (Creative Commons)