Is Faith Believing that God ‘Can’ or that He ‘Will?’

My younger daughter and I are alike in many ways. One thing we have in common is a love for miniature dachshunds. It was the dog my dad bought for me as a child—several times (upon each predecessor’s untimely death). It was the dog my husband gifted me on our fifth anniversary. My daughter fell in love with our friend’s tiny wiener dog when she was three, and she never recovered her senses. For years, she would reason, beg, and write us letters, detailing their advantages and attributes. But we already had a dog, a Cairn terrier named Halo. One we had researched and chosen specifically for our lifestyle. And one dog per family is sort of the unwritten rule for sensible, suburban families.

But one particularly challenging year for our family, I started to consider the idea of a second dog for our kids. My daughter was still planting weekly imploring notes in my kitchen junk drawer, on my nightstand, or between the pages of my bible that fall. My husband (finally) agreed that this was the year to get her a dachshund. 

We did lots of sneaking and plotting, and were able to surprise her with a tiny, wiggly dog on Christmas morning. I will never forget her look as the puppy licked her stunned face. She was barely able to mutter, “I got a wiener dog…” 

I realized at that moment, that despite all her pleas, she probably always knew we could, though she never really believed we would, grant her longstanding wish. And over the years of asking, she learned she could trust us even if we never got another dog.

STAGES OF FAITH 

It seems faith grows in similar stages:

• God can.
• God will.
• I trust Him even if He doesn’t.

We start out believing that God can. He is powerful and He is Creator and Sustainer. Then as we learn more about the works and heart of Jesus, we believe He will. He wants good and wholeness for us. But finally, I think, we get to a kind of faith that says, “It’s okay even if He doesn’t.”  To a place where we trust His decision more than our own desires.

Finally, we get to a kind of faith that says, “It’s okay even if He doesn’t.”  To a place where we trust His decision more than our own desires.

Every thank-you card my dad wrote in the years before his death ended with, “Pray for the healing of Lori Wood.” Every prayer my husband prays includes a petition for restoring my heart. Yet, sometimes in my own prayers, I don’t ask anymore. 

And then I wonder, What’s wrong with me? Am I demonstrating deeper faith or am I just getting weary?

I don’t think I’ve ever doubted that God can heal my heart; but most days I’m not convinced that He will. And honestly, that eats away a little at my testimony. I wonder if I still truly believe—if I have what true faith requires. I see other believers that I admire claiming the “promises” of God, and declaring victory over XYZ before it’s happened. Is that what deep faith does?

I’m seeking the best medical care and trusting their God-given knowledge, not as an end-all, not precluding a miracle, but actually proving it. By knowing how unlikely it is that I am still alive, eleven years with my prognosis, without a heart transplant, an LVAD, or even an oxygen tank, without any deficits from my massive stroke, is actually proof of God’s hand moving outside of normal circumstances, apart from the natural order of His world. But I’d have to know and believe the “normal circumstances” first in order to recognize the miracle He did.

Sometimes when moving our faith from “He can” through “He will”  to “Trust,” it helps to remember what “He did.” 

GOD’S DECISION IS NOT JUST ABOUT ME 

Many years later, that same dachshund-loving daughter almost missed a family Christmas trip when she had to get a last-minute passport replacement. She found an office that printed same-day passports, showed up early, tearfully stated her case (and flight time), and then waited. They said it could  happen, not sure if it would. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the family was already at the airport, checking bags and going through security. We watched our phones for her text updates as she stood in line, paid, eventually got the passport, and ordered an Uber. As boarding was scheduled to begin at our gate on the outskirts of the city, it became clear that she would miss the flight. 

Suddenly, a flight delay was announced at our gate. Everyone groaned, except our family breathed a sigh of relief (and *one of us* may have even clapped). Twenty minutes later, I ran to my daughter as she ran toward our gate. She made it! But it took a delay to do it. As I boarded the plane with my disgruntled fellow travelers, I thanked God for the delay, and I suddenly realized that God’s timing affects more than just me. (And I vowed to take future delays through a larger lens.)

God’s timing affects more than just me.

We live so entwined with other people who also have free will and maybe even a dream or two of their own, that the narrative often doesn’t play out just like we’d design on our own. Sometimes that means that though God can, He has decided, at least for now, not to. Faith is not continually trying to force His Hand to my personal liking, but accepting His wisdom and decision…and timing. 

Even more, God works across lifetimes and through generations. Our story thread is part of a bigger fabric He has been weaving since Eden. We are all part of His continuing story and the small part we play may seem confusing or unfinished. We may not see the finished end in our lifetime. 

Old prayers can unfold into answers whole lifetimes later. You don’t have to see the answer to your prayers for your prayers to eventually see answers.

– Ann Voskamp

Even our faith heroes died not seeing all the answers they wanted:

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised

(Hebrews 11:13, NIV)

Yet they surrendered their lives—and likely transformed their prayer requests—for His unseen eternal purpose.

THE BIGGER PART OF FAITH

It’s still mostly a mystery to me whether God chooses to act or not. But mature faith requires that we accept both. Maybe especially when we don’t feel it or understand it.

In those times, I depend on the truth of Isaiah 60:22, reminding us that God will accomplish His promises and bring about growth swiftly in His own appointed time:

I am God. At the right time I’ll make it happen.

(Isaiah 60:22, MSG)

I believe faith is foremost believing He can, and the bigger, gnarlier part of faith is being good with His decision not to. Hoping for the yes, but accepting the no. Believing His decision is better than my own vision. That’s the mature part—the rougher part—of faith. That’s surrender. That’s relinquishment.

The bigger, gnarlier part of faith is being good with His decision not to.

Surrender or relinquishment has nothing to do with undermining the power of prayer. But perhaps it means adjusting our prayers from specific petition to trust in His decision.

…true prayer tries to gather what needs attention and let go of it in the love of God. 

– Maggie Ross

I believe in prayer wholeheartedly. In many ways, I am right now living in the answers to other people’s prayers: my marriage, my children, my grandchildren, my life itself. And I often pray for healing for the ones I love and for the world they live in.

It’s hard to think of anything more effective than placing a sick world back in the arms of its creator and healer.

– M. Craig Barnes

But prayer isn’t always about petition.  

• It is petition, 
• it is praise, 
• it is thanksgiving, 
• it is lament, 
• it is relinquishment. 

(Do-ers and fixers tend to forget that last one.)

Even Jesus prayed a prayer of relinquishment in the Garden of Gethsemane, placing His impending crucifixion back into the hands of the Father:

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”

(Luke 22:42)

We hear a lot about manifesting, but the truth is, sometimes because of the circumstances of life or other people’s decisions, we can’t have the story that we had envisioned and that’s okay. We may be charged instead to make the most of the story God has chosen for us.

That same wiener-dog-Christmas while my youngest was wishing for a puppy, her older sister didn’t have much of a list. Instead, she simply wrote “surprises,” knowing from past seasons that sometimes the giver knows the best gift even without specific direction (a special doll, a bicycle, a flip phone)—often when we don’t even know what to ask for ourselves.

Just like with me and God, it’s easier to relinquish, knowing what He’s already done. Even without my prompting. From my journal:

More than a decade in, I’m not sure what to ask for anymore. But I have a deeper trust in God’s provision and decisions. Since this medical detour began, I’ve become an empty-nester, a mother-in-law, a grandmother, an author, a stroke survivor, and an orphan. I am thankful for each one. (Even surviving long enough to become an orphan means my parents were spared from ever having to bury a child, and I am so grateful for that.) Each new label is a blessing— some I never would have chosen or didn’t know to ask for; ones I didn’t know I needed.

But God did.

***Listen to this post read by the author HERE.***