Learning to Trust the Mystery

Lessons in getting what we pray for. Or not.

It’s a humbling moment to sit in front of someone and apologize; especially when you’re apologizing for doing something that comes so naturally. To look them in their eyes and admit that you had no idea that what you deemed normal is actually alienating.

My life is full of these moments, particularly of late.

The walls that I thought were so carefully constructed to protect are actually keeping the wonderment out.

Oof.

I am a person that plans. I embrace structure and routine as if they are vital elements in life.

There are some things, though, that I can’t plan for.

So I process in the best way I know how, and I journal it out. And then I pray about it. Big or small, I’m telling Jesus about it, because Grandma said He wants to know, and dang it, I’m gonna tell Him.

And do you want to know what happens?

He answers my prayers.

Sometimes the answer lies in the unanswered. In the vast domain of nothingness the silence thunders through my heart. And slowly–because I am nothing if not cautious–I recognize that no answer is the answer.

Love that for me.

But then there are prayers that are answered in ways that have me telling people Can you believe I’m getting exactly what I prayed for?!

I prayed for patience
and I’m in a season of waiting.
Nothing I can plan for, I just have to be.

I prayed for a full heart
and I’m living through joy, grief, and gratitude every day.
The abundance of emotions is so profound it’s overwhelming.

I prayed for community
and I followed His plan to move where I have none.
Now I’m building new relationships and conserving what is established.

I prayed for relief of the anxiety that suffocates me in my insecurities
and I’m being pushed outside of my comfort zone.
There is grace that comes with trust and vulnerability of the release.

None of this is straight forward.

But I’ve learned, through years of trial and error (and with constant reminders from my therapist) that this is where the growth happens.

Lean into it.

Listen, watch, and learn.

So when I sat in the office of my therapist this week overwrought with feelings and thoughts that consume me and my time, she sat there quietly, assessing me and then

Have you given these to God every day, or are you holding it hostage in your own mind and body?

And because she knows me so well, she went on

Honor the relationships you want to build by breaking down your own walls. You can only do that with a willing heart, and the help of God. Your silence is not a protection, it is a shield against intimacy and vulnerability. Give it a voice, apologize for retreating into yourself, and show up wholeheartedly every day with every person.

Oh goodness. Way to see me and see through me.

So I sat in the golden light of evening and gave it a voice. I said it clearly, without remorse and without excuses.

I prayed for patience and I received grace.

I prayed for a full heart and I received acceptance as I am.

I prayed for community and I was welcomed in.

I prayed for relief of anxiety and I was offered comfort and reassurance.

Later, I told someone I love and trust that I am never not in awe at how people receive my vulnerability and show up when I give them the space.
And I said I hate getting what I prayed for. The lessons are ridiculously tough.

Of course I don’t hate getting what I prayed for, but if you can’t be dramatic with the people that love you the most just to lighten the mood, then what the heck?

And do you know what I received in return?

SAME.
Learning to trust the mystery.

So here we are. Getting what we prayed for and what we need, and learning the tough lessons together.

Maya Angelou said to do your best until you know better, and then when you know better, do better.

Listening, watching, and learning.

Learning to trust the mystery.

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