I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve whispered some version of “God, what are You doing?”
There are moments when life just doesn’t line up the way I thought it would. Doors close that I was sure were meant to open. People leave when I thought they’d stay. Opportunities vanish right when I’m ready to take the leap.
And it’s in those moments that Isaiah 55:8–9 comes crashing in — a gentle reminder and, sometimes, a hard truth:
God doesn’t think like I do.
He doesn’t operate on my timeline.
And He doesn’t owe me the full blueprint.
If I’m honest, that frustrates me. I like plans. I like knowing why. I like to see how the puzzle pieces fit together. But God’s ways aren’t a puzzle to solve — they’re a mystery to trust.
Maybe faith isn’t just believing God exists — maybe it’s believing that He knows what He’s doing when I don’t.
When something falls apart, I try to remind myself that God might be protecting me from a version of life that isn’t meant for me. When I’m waiting longer than I want to, maybe He’s preparing something bigger than I asked for. And when I feel lost, maybe He’s simply leading me down a road that only makes sense in hindsight.
It’s humbling to admit that my view is limited — that from where I stand, I can only see today, while He sees eternity.
So even when my plans don’t make sense, maybe I can rest in the fact that His do.
After all… what do I know?
There are moments when life just doesn’t line up the way I thought it would. Doors close that I was sure were meant to open. People leave when I thought they’d stay. Opportunities vanish right when I’m ready to take the leap.
And it’s in those moments that Isaiah 55:8–9 comes crashing in — a gentle reminder and, sometimes, a hard truth:
God doesn’t think like I do.
He doesn’t operate on my timeline.
And He doesn’t owe me the full blueprint.
If I’m honest, that frustrates me. I like plans. I like knowing why. I like to see how the puzzle pieces fit together. But God’s ways aren’t a puzzle to solve — they’re a mystery to trust.
Maybe faith isn’t just believing God exists — maybe it’s believing that He knows what He’s doing when I don’t.
When something falls apart, I try to remind myself that God might be protecting me from a version of life that isn’t meant for me. When I’m waiting longer than I want to, maybe He’s preparing something bigger than I asked for. And when I feel lost, maybe He’s simply leading me down a road that only makes sense in hindsight.
It’s humbling to admit that my view is limited — that from where I stand, I can only see today, while He sees eternity.
So even when my plans don’t make sense, maybe I can rest in the fact that His do.
After all… what do I know?
