Once upon a time, I wrote another post with the same title as today’s. I had just been taught that God’s plans are so much better than my own, and I promised myself then that I’d pray for God’s will to be done in my life all the time.
I’ve kept that promise about as well as you’d expect. I’m human. But I was blessed to learn the lesson of the “prayer that never fails” through the amazing blessing of my children. They’re a constant reminder of God’s grace, and I’ll keep plugging away at being worthy of them.
Even when, like today, I’m writing from a very different place.
This time, I don’t know what God’s will is. Two people I love are struggling to make decisions that affect their life together, and I don’t know if they want the same things anymore. Neither of them is wrong. Possibly, neither of them even has the power to change what’s coming.
The sad finality is awful in it’s simplicity: there’s no way to know what to hope for. Someone will be disappointed, possibly even heartbroken. Even though I believe in God’s power to heal those wounds, I can’t bear to see them inflicted on someone I care so deeply about.
Sometimes, it’s the only thing to say:
Thy will be done.