I’ve been there. I’ve prayed on my knees until the carpet permanently imprints its knobby pattern in my skin. I’ve cried out with my face to the floor, begging God to give me the miracle.
And then. And then. And then.
The “no” hit me with the breaking force of a hurricane, and there I was. Stranded on a path I didn’t recognize, headed down a road I didn’t ask to journey.
The paralyzing thoughts came, like Job’s friends, to say, “Why are you here? What did you do wrong?”
But, I believe the gospel of Jesus Christ. And I believe Paul when he writes that “affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope.”
So, I get up. I shake my frozen legs. And with the power that comes from Christ alone, I take an aching step forward down this strange path. The farther I walk, the easier it becomes because my muscles grow stronger than I knew they could. At times, I still have to dig in and scale the mountainside, but the view from where I stand is lovelier now than it ever was on the easy path.