Felicity and Phoebe rushed back to us, princess crowns
bobbing on top of braids and ponytails. They waved silver plastic wands with a
star at the end and asked what we wished for.
‘Ice cream.’
A variety of flavours were chosen and, in this fun game,
duly provided. (I wish it were a little more tangible than it was…)
We were on repeat with this and eventually I thought I’d
shake up the wish list a bit.
‘I wish I could sing really well. And I wish I could play
the piano really well, too,’ I said.
Our fairy princesses looked stunned. Lost for words (unusual
for Flick!) until Phoebe piped up, ‘We don’t have those wishes.’
We went back to ice cream.
Our heavenly Father is no fairy princess. He who created the
Milky Way is well able to answer any of our prayerful wishes. Sometimes he
gives us just what we ask for. Other times, though, it feels like an emptiness
rather than a YES. It feels like there’s a divine deafness to our persistent
request. Maybe even a powerlessness to provide. Or, even worse, an
unwillingness on God’s part to step in and say YES.
Not true. Our God is a good, good God. Jesus suffered
unspeakably because he thought you were worth it. He thought I was worth it. He
can give us ice cream; he can give me the voice of a nightingale and the skills
of a concert pianist. He gives me what is best for me, even when I don’t see
it, when I don’t recognise it. Even when it seems the ice cream is melting and I’m
singing like a frog and playing chopsticks on the piano. And when the silence
is prolonged and the pain is profound, he is wrapping his arms around me, his
tears mingling with mine.
Never does God say to us, ‘I don’t have those wishes.’
Hang on. Keep praying.
