Perspectives
on the Landscape of Life
By
DJ Note
Thy Will, Not Mine
I often struggle with God’s will, if not His timing.
Perhaps it’s my ignorance. Perhaps it’s my arrogance.
Someone I loved recently passed away. For
twenty-five years I prayed for this man, asking God to touch his heart and
reveal the truth of the gospel to him—to no avail.
I recall when subjects of faith, heaven and eternal
life, would creep into our conversations only to go from bad to worse. As my
relationship with Jesus deepened, the spiritual chasm that separated us,
widened.
Once, in a fit of frustration he told me there would
be no real relationship between us as long as I attended that so-and-so church.
My heart was grieved, but I knew it wasn’t the church or me he fought. It was
Jesus.
Circumstances caused us to part a number of years
ago, but I never ceased to pray for him. I was often moved to pray when I took
my dog for an evening walk, raking the autumn leaves in my back yard, or
driving to and from work. Many times I prayed while riding horseback along a
mountain trail—a hobby we once enjoyed together.
Sometimes my impassioned zeal to pray in his behalf
overwhelmed me to the point of desperation. Other times, God’s peace hushed my
petition to a reverent whisper.
Too often, I admit, I questioned God’s will, if not
His timing. Why wouldn’t He simply engage His will and be done with it? Matthew
18:14 says: “…it is not my heavenly Father’s will that even one of these little
ones should perish.” Scripture is filled with accounts of answered prayer. Why
not mine? Why not this one?
Sometimes I prayed with an exhausted attitude. “Here
I am again, Lord.” I no longer knew how to intercede for him. The years passed
and nothing changed. Nothing. There was no life surrendered to Jesus.
Why did I persist? How many years does one continue?
I remembered Timothy’s Mother and Grandmother in the Bible. Their praying for
him never ceased. I couldn’t stand the thought of this man spending eternity
apart from the Lover of his Soul. I agonized over that thought.
Not long ago he fell. It was the beginning of his
end. My prayers intensified. I asked friends, family and even some of you to
pray for his salvation. “Please, Lord, don’t take him until he belongs to you.”
By God’s grace, a benevolent pastor who explained
the gospel one final time visited him. And in the quiet of a winter afternoon,
two hands grasped in prayer, and Jesus made His home in yet another heart.
Then, a few days later I received a phone call. The
Lord had called him home. He was safely home at last. I cried
with relief and gratitude. One fine day
I’ll see him again.
“Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due
time we will reap if we do not grow weary.” Galatians 6:9
Our prayers are never ignored, never wasted. God is
at work. He is faithful. His will is perfect, His timing—impeccable. I don’t
know why it took so long for my former father-in-law to bend his knee to Jesus,
but I do know this—I’m eternally grateful.
Deborah J. Note writes from Eagle Point, Oregon.