Last time I shared a blog post on this site, I wrote about how the life of a Christian doesn’t follow any formulas, and what a beautiful, freeing truth that can be for a believer.

It can also be the most maddening thing in the entire world.

You’ve had the days; I’m sure of it. The days when you throw your hands up in resignation and say to the Lord, “Why don’t You write on walls anymore!??!!?” The days when you have decisions to make that matter, because they affect everything for the rest of forever, and you truly do not know which route to take.

When you think of the verse in the Bible that says “Whether you turn to the left or to the right, you’ll hear a voice saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it'” but all you hear are loud cricket chirps.

When people say to you “Sometimes it doesn’t matter which route you take because God would bless any of them in front of you” – and you know it’s true, but you still want Him to tell you.

Those are hard days.

He’s there in those moments, too, you know. He’s there, He’s not blind to your predicament, and in some way…some formulaless, inexplicable way, He will guide.

I write to you today from just such a place. The place where I’ve paced and prayed and fallen on my knees and made mental pros-and-cons lists…called my friends for wise counsel, and guess what? I still don’t know what to do.

My very nature borders on ridiculously logical. And in this moment, I’m caught up in logic. I’m caught up in saying “Until these things happen, I should not even consider moving forward, because it’s not rational. It’s not safe. It’s not smart.”

And then I sit back and wonder if my unabashed faith is hindered by my logic. If maybe God wants me to say “Lord, I trust You to work out these details, even though it does not look reasonable to me.”

Unfortunately I do not come to you with answers today. If you’re nodding along in agreement and scooting to the edge of your seat hoping for a neat, tidy answer, complete with a bright red bow: I’m sorry.

I don’t have it.

I just have my questions and my fledgling faith that wrestles between using the brain God gave me and trusting the bigness of His heart. But this I do know: if you’re in that place today, you are so not alone. I’m with you in your boat, and I’m trusting that somehow, in the seeking, He’ll bring answers and clarity. Probably not until the very last minute {it seems to work that way, anyway}, but He will show up. If I start to veer too far off course, I believe He will pull me back in, because my heart is tender and open toward His leading.

So in the absence of answers, I beg you to pray.

Pray, pray, pray, down on your knees with your eyes closed to block out distractions if you have to. Pray honestly and tell Him your confusion and your fear. And know that He is there, even if He’s quiet, and His holy pen doesn’t scribble on a wall.