Just A Glimpse

 A single page fell out of an old book of mine, a paperback from my college years, the cover collapsing, the glue in the binding dried up. 

The page is not even a complete scene, but still a vital component woven into a larger intricate chronicle.  It is not the whole story.  A page itself does not seem to make sense, but it does in the grand design. 

What is the meaning of this?  We ask because we know there must be.

And because I know this book, I knew where the page belonged.  The story would not be complete without it.

Nor our stories. 

A friend, deep in writing a novel years ago, gave birth to a physically challenged daughter.  Her writing stopped as she cared for her precious child. Twenty years later, seasoned by her experience and relationship with God, she finished her book, now a far deeper story than she had anticipated because of the chapters of life she had not intended, but attended.  God was redeeming already, when she didn’t even realize it.

These incomprehensible circumstances in our lives do not just happen, but unfold.  The incredible, unexpected joys and the unspeakable hard stuff, we know not how they fit, day by day, but we do know Who holds it together.  And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.  Colossians 1. 17

And through prayer, God invites us into His eternal narrative.  Not that we will understand at the moment, but we can trust Him.  And trust Him again.

Prayer gives us just a glimpse.  Not a final answer, nor even a singular one, nor even about “answers” at all, but that which is woven seamlessly together over thousands of years and impacting more people than we can realize.  God places us strategically in time and space and eternity.

Our prayers are inextricably linked, far more than we can comprehend.

When we ask God to do something supernatural, He replies, “That’s the only way I work.”

God does not just say, “Ask Me for that.”  But He changes our hearts to, “Ask Me about that.”  And as we listen, He reveals Himself.  And we discover over time and countless prayers that God cannot be crammed into lidded plastic containers with dated answers that fit so neatly together on a shelf behind the pantry door.

Come to Me. 

The answers are not answers at all, but an ongoing and growing relationship with Him. 

We see but a passage, a page or even two.  But wow, we would be astonished at how our lives and prayers are interwoven since the beginning of time.  It is not a matter of scenes, or events, or details making sense, but bearing witness.

“I am in this,” God says, every word written in indelible ink.  Praying reminds us of His Presence.  We are not alone.  This page of our lives is not lost, but reveals a divinely uniting thread of His sovereign love. 

And not the whole story.  Just a glimpse.