What are you doing, Lord?

It's in the quiet places.

In the fever pitch of push against shove.

In the aftermath of corroded dreams.

In the fury of detonated relationships, rubble still falling.

We whisper. What are you doing, Lord?

Hindsight is always 20/20.

We wish we could see ahead, prepare for the curveball, stop the train before it derails. A clue or two, confirmation we're on the right track, headed in the right direction.

We wish we could know that people are going to hurt us.

Wish we could go back in time, tread carefully, change directions.

To know our efforts won't be in vain.

That the crumbling walls won't crush us.

That we'll be able to rise out of the rubble and rebuild.

We shout. Lord, what are you doing?

We get tangled in expectations, and hope, and maybe even what we thought were the promises of God.

Sandwiched between "uh-oh" and "praise the Lord, glad that's over!"

Waiting for a sign.

For a door to open.

For the voice of God to come down and say, like he does in Isaiah 30,"this is the way, walk in it."

We hope he hears our wordless prayers. What are you doing, Lord?

I have asked this question too many times to count. It get's sticky when he doesn't do what we thought he would. Even more-so when we did what we thought we were supposed to do, and it doesn't seem to matter.

When I get stuck, and the spiraling inside my head seems as if it might swallow me whole, I have learned to hover over what I know to be true.

This is what I do know:

Sometimes he answers my prayers, and sometimes he doesn't.

As I pray, I hear from God much more when I'm silent, and much less when I do all the talking.

Some things I just won't be able to understand. God doesn't explain everything, but he does give comfort, guidance and His presence.

Sometimes life just isn't fair. We live in a world cursed by sin and death, and there will be times in life where the pain and destruction of that curse is unavoidable.

Sometimes he puts me in a circumstance to teach, strengthen, stretch or grow. I can choose to be bitter or better from it.

Sometimes I will get hurt by the sin and selfishness of others.

Sometimes, I've created the mess. Like a pre-teen drama queen, I find myself begging God to fix what I've broken or neglected. I laugh when I think of God looking down on me with kind eyes, shaking his head as I beg him to come to my aid after I neglected to heed his wisdom in the first place.

Sometimes I have sin that I need to confess and work through. Sometimes the first thing out of my mouth during prayer is, "Lord, what do I need to confess? Help me to see anything that I've overlooked. Help me to see my actions and attitude from your perspective." I've learned it's really futile to ask for God's help when I'm harboring bitterness and resentment, driven by greed, participating in gossip or doing anything out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.

Here's what else I know:

I have thousands of data-points reminding me that he is in control, and he will work it out. Hundreds of personal experiences, where I saw God move in ways that could only be described as his provision and plan. Hundreds of stories from family and friends, as they have experienced God's faithfulness. Thousands of answered prayers. Countless times I've felt a nudge, whisper, or even a bold NO or GO from the Lord as he has guided my path in life.

So here I sit again, whispering, What are you doing, Lord?, knowing he'll show me in his good time, and that I'm safe in his arms as I wait.