The Prayer I Forgot I Prayed

“If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does He give them opportunities to be patient? If someone prays for courage, does God give them courage, or does He give them opportunities to be courageous?”

I’ve never forgotten that line from Evan Almighty.

In fact…

It has made me a little careful about what I pray for.

Not because I don’t trust God.

Because I think He answers prayers differently than I expect.

For years I’ve sent a devotional to my staff every Monday morning.

Somewhere along the way I noticed a pattern.

Whatever I wrote about…

I spent the rest of the week living.

If I wrote about patience…

My patience would be tested before Tuesday.

If I wrote about grace…

I suddenly found myself choosing between grace and being right.

If I wrote about courage…

Well…

Life had a funny way of handing me opportunities to practice it.

After a while I started laughing about it.

Then I started paying attention.

There are still things about God I don’t understand.

I don’t understand why some prayers seem to be answered immediately while others feel like they disappear into silence.

I don’t understand why some seasons seem unbearably heavy.

And I still don’t fully understand suffering.

There’s a worship song I love called Gracefully Broken.

The artist talks about God breaking us gently.

Beautifully.

Gracefully.

I want to believe that.

I really do.

But if I’m being honest…

Some seasons haven’t felt graceful at all.

They’ve hurt.

They’ve stripped things away.

They’ve left me sitting in places I never wanted to be.

The past eight months changed me.

Not because they were beautiful.

Because they weren’t.

There were days I felt destroyed.

Not physically.

But emotionally.

Spiritually.

The version of me that entered those months isn’t the same one who walked out of them.

Looking back now, I don’t think God was trying to destroy me.

I think He was making room.

I couldn’t see that while it was happening.

All I could see was what I was losing.

The relationships.

The certainty.

The identity I had built around how I thought my life was supposed to go.

But now…

I can see little pockets of grace I couldn’t see before.

Not because the pain wasn’t real.

Because the pain wasn’t the whole story.

Lately I’ve found myself wondering something.

What exactly did I pray for?

Somewhere along the way, I must have asked for wisdom.

I know I’ve prayed for courage.

For deeper faith.

For purpose.

For authentic relationships.

I’ve asked God to remove what isn’t for me.

I’ve asked Him to change me into the person He created me to be.

I’ve asked Him to help me love people better.

To help me see myself the way He sees me.

I’ve prayed all of those prayers.

I just don’t remember when.

And I wonder…

What if this season was His answer?

Not because He wanted me to suffer.

But because wisdom can’t always be handed to us.

Sometimes it has to be lived.

Maybe courage isn’t something God places in our hands.

Maybe it’s something He grows in us while we’re walking through the very thing we hoped to avoid.

Maybe patience isn’t a gift wrapped with a bow.

Maybe it’s born in the waiting.

Maybe deeper faith only grows where certainty ends.

I still don’t love that answer.

If I’m honest…

I’d rather receive patience than practice it.

I’d rather receive courage than need it.

I’d rather receive wisdom without heartbreak.

I’d rather become the person God is shaping me into without losing the things I love along the way.

But life doesn’t seem to work like that.

Neither does growth.

Maybe that’s why I don’t remember every prayer I’ve prayed.

Because if I knew exactly what they would cost…

I might have been tempted to take them back.

Instead…

God answered them anyway.

Not always the way I wanted.

But maybe…

Exactly the way I needed.