Eventually, We’re All Left Knocking
I was 15 when my mother passed away. The year leading up was filled with many nights of pleading–one in particular stands out to me, where the elders of our church came and anointed her with oil for healing. In my young mind, this was supposed to work.
So on that fateful day, when God called my mother home, I was left reeling from the fallout of a shattered faith, and attempting to survive a crushing mountain of guilt. From my perspective, I must not have done enough before God for Him to listen to me. Too much sin, not enough prayer, not enough devotion. It was my fault.
Much healing and growth has happened since that time, but one thing is still present through the years. I find myself knocking at the door of heaven and wondering when God is going to hear my prayers.
Weekly Practice: Keep Knocking
I struggle with the parable of the Persistent Widow in Luke 18:1-8. I wish that Jesus told a parable about how that woman not only got what she wanted and quickly, but that the judge set a whole legion of constables out to make sure it never happened again. Yet she persisted.
Jesus does make it clear that God is not the unjust judge, but that He does want to see justice for His children. He will see that justice done quickly. So what is the point of this?
My concept of justice isn’t the same as God’s. It is often deeply personal, and frankly, selfish. I want what I think is good for me, and I want it now. God is concerned about the eternal, and global reality of humanity.
So my prayers bring me in light with God’s heart. As I’ve walked the streets of our neighbourhood praying, God has awakened in me a desire to see justice reign in my city. To see captives set free, and deep wounds healed.
This week, what unanswered prayer is on your heart? Are you brave enough to keep knocking at God’s door, knowing that not only does He want to see justice done, but that the justice might just change both your prayer and your heart?
Be diligent in your prayers. It may take decades, but He is working.