Not The Ending I Prayed For
Parenting teaches us more about love, surrender, and faith than perhaps any other calling. We enter it dreaming of laughter and milestones, but along the way, life’s unexpected turns can test our deepest beliefs. This is the story of how my prayers, my grief, and my faith collided — and how I learned that God’s goodness is not defined by the endings we imagine, but by His presence through them all.
From the moment we cradle our newborns, we begin to imagine their future — their laughter, their milestones, their purpose. Parenting becomes our calling. We sacrifice, chauffeur, cheer, and pray without ceasing.
I loved every minute of it — until the road got harder. And it didn’t just take unexpected turns; it became downright turbulent. I thought I knew how to navigate by following the expected road signs, but being catapulted into unknown territory with a child making poor decisions left me lost. I went from confident parent to one throwing my hands up in surrender.
It took the turbulence to expose that I’d been sitting in the captain’s seat, with Jesus as my agreeable co-pilot. But when uncertainty hit and I realized I was headed for a crash, I finally jumped seats and handed Him the controls completely.
Then clarity — of mind and spirit — began to settle over me. I committed to dropping to my knees daily and to fast once a week for the life and soul of my child. After years of ups and downs, hills and valleys, hopes and disappointments, it all came to a tragic crescendo.
I remember standing in my kitchen after learning my son’s body had been found in his car. As the troopers’ voices faded into the background, two thoughts pierced through the shock:
First, this was the day I had set aside for ten years to fast and pray for this son.
Second, this was not the ending I prayed for.
Many people have lived through this kind of heartbreak. After navigating grief in what I call “the back side of the desert,” the Lord taught me some very deep truths through the reading of His Word. The Bible is full of stories of triumph through tragedy.
One of the most compelling is in 2 Samuel, pertaining to King David. When the child born of his sin became ill, David fasted and prayed, pleading with God for mercy. He refused food, comfort, or company. But when the child died, David did something that baffled everyone — he rose, washed, worshipped, and ate. He knew the eternal ramifications of seeing his child again.
His actions revealed a powerful truth: faith does not end when prayers go unanswered.
True faith trusts not just in what God gives, but in who God is.
Faith isn’t just trusting God for the outcome we want — it’s trusting Him even when the outcome breaks our hearts.
David’s worship after loss wasn’t denial; it was surrender. He grieved deeply, yet rested in the goodness of a just and loving God.
And that’s where I learned to rest, too. There would be more tragedies to come, but surrender and reliance on a living God became the perfect workout for building spiritual muscle. When the next storm hit, that spiritual muscle memory carried me — and in His goodness, I found that He Himself became integral to the workout.
