There are seasons when I can look back and clearly see the hand of God. I can see the door He closed that I begged Him to open. I can see the relationship He removed that I thought I couldn’t live without. I can see the detour that frustrated me, only to realize later that it was actually His protection.
Hindsight has a way of revealing fingerprints we couldn’t see while we were living the story, but then there are other seasons.
Seasons when I cannot trace His hand at all.
I pray, and nothing seems to change.
I ask for direction, and the road ahead still feels unclear.
I believe He is working, but if I’m being completely transparent, I cannot point to the evidence yet.
And that little word yet can hold a whole lot of faith, because faith is much easier when we can trace what God is doing.
It’s harder when we can’t.
I’ve lived enough life with Jesus to know that there will be moments when what I see doesn’t seem to line up with what I know about Him. There will be prayers that aren’t answered the way I hoped. There will be losses I cannot explain. There will be circumstances I would never have chosen. There will be chapters where God seems quiet when I desperately want Him to speak. And in those places, I’ve learned that I have to be very careful about allowing what I don’t understand to make me question what God has already revealed about Himself.
Because unanswered questions have a way of becoming accusations if we’re not careful.
God, if You love me, why did You allow this?
If You’re good, why haven’t You changed this?
If You’re listening, why are You so quiet?
If You’re really here, why can’t I see Your hand?
Those are human questions. I’ve asked some of them myself. But somewhere along the way, I realized something:
I don’t have to understand God’s hand to trust His heart.
Because His heart has already been revealed.
At the cross.
The cross is where I go when my circumstances start trying to rewrite what I believe about God.
When life whispers, Maybe He doesn’t care, the cross says otherwise.
When disappointment whispers, Maybe He has forgotten you, the cross says otherwise.
When suffering makes me wonder whether God is really good, the cross reminds me that His goodness was never established by whether my life was easy. It was established at Calvary.
Jesus didn’t simply tell us that God loved us. He showed us.
“But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.”
– Romans 5:8 NLT
The cross is the permanent evidence of the heart of God, and that means there are days when I may have to stop looking for evidence of His goodness in my circumstances and remember the evidence He has already given me.
Jesus.
I may not know why this prayer hasn’t been answered.
I may not understand why this season has lasted so long.
I may not know why God allowed something I begged Him to prevent.
I may not be able to see what He’s building, restoring, protecting, preparing, or redeeming. But I know the cross. And because I know the cross, I know His heart.
That doesn’t mean disappointment disappears.
It doesn’t mean grief suddenly becomes easy.
It doesn’t mean we slap a Bible verse over our pain and pretend everything is fine.
Faith doesn’t require us to deny what hurts.
It simply refuses to let what hurts have the final word about who God is.
Maybe that’s what trusting God sometimes looks like.
Not having an explanation.
Not seeing the outcome.
Not being able to connect all the dots.
But planting our feet at the foot of the cross and saying:
I don’t understand this, God.
I cannot see what You’re doing.
I don’t know how this story ends.
But I know who You are.
There have been things in my own life that I understand now that I couldn’t understand then. And there are still things I don’t understand.
There are still prayers I’m waiting on.
Still places where I would love to pull back the curtain and see exactly what God is doing.
Maybe one day I will.
Maybe some things won’t make sense on this side of eternity, but I’ve decided I don’t need every answer before I trust the One holding them. Because when my eyes cannot find His hand, they can always find the cross. And the cross has already told me everything I need to know about His heart.
When I cannot trace God’s hand, the cross keeps me from questioning His heart.
Maybe today you can’t trace His hand either. Maybe you’re staring at a situation that doesn’t make sense and wondering where God is in it. You don’t have to pretend you understand. You don’t have to manufacture certainty you don’t have. You can bring every question, every disappointment, every tear, and every why straight to Him. And then look again at the cross.
You may not be able to trace His hand yet, but you never have to question His heart.
The cross settled that forever.