He Hears our Prayers

I recently heard a beautiful song by a trio of Christian women.  The message was about the presence of God in the life of a Christ follower.

The setting was a mountaintop.  The woman and the “Shepherd” were talking together.  I surmised that she was asking why God had allowed pain and loss to follow her in her life on earth and why God did not answer her prayers. 
 
“Why?  Why?” she would say. “I asked for …… and you didn’t answer.”

Do you ever question God like that?  I know I certainly have, and even now, it sometimes becomes my plea.  Oh, how I wish I could hear His reasons.  I wish I could see the future.  But when I do, I wonder if, while seeing the future, I would still ask the question, “Why?”

But sometimes these days, I’m grateful that the “why” is lost in the presence of opportunities to say, “Thank you.  Thank you, God, for not answering my prayer in the way I wanted.”  Thank you for protecting me from myself – from my short-sighted wishes.

I cry, “why?”  I cry “how?”  

I cry “God please fix it now!”

My prayers – they whine like howling wind, 

with what, and why, and where and how.

Living in this broken world seems more than I can bear.

I need your help, I need your voice, I need your love and care.

I’d fall without the sure conviction 

that you’re always standing there

to hold me close and listen as

I come to you in prayer.

Even though there are still pains and problems in this world, I choose to believe what the Scriptures tell me – God loves his children and wants the best for them.  

We read in the Bible - 
 

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are! 1 John 3:1 (NIV)

If you, then, though you are evil,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your Father in heaven
give good gifts to those who ask him! Matthew 7:10 (NIV)

The Lord is my shepherd. . . He restores my soul. Psalm 23 (NIV)

The song ends with the shepherd pointing to the valley that this woman has just crossed.  He points out the path she walked – sometimes on her own, and sometimes with his help.  He points to the paths she wanted to take - the ones He prevented, 
and the times when she really couldn’t go on, so He carried her. 
 

Father please forgive me when I whine.

Please help me understand.

You know the trials that I can bear.

You hold me in your hand.

And He does.  God bless you dear friends.

Diane