Did you ever run to mom or dad when your world fell apart?
I am the Practice Administrator at a midwife clinic. They call me Mom. I am called that for many reasons (where is the toilet paper?) but I believe the main one is that I am the one they come to when they have come to the end of themselves, when their client’s pregnancy is complicated, the situation is confusing.
The midwives know that I am Christian. Three out of four of the midwives are not. They ask if I believe that God listens to prayer. And I answer yes. Do I believe that God answers prayer? And I answer yes. Would I pray for them? And I answer yes.
But do I know if God answered their prayers? No, I don’t. Do I want to know if He did? Of course, I do. I don’t want to be seen to have failed. I just professed that I believe God answers prayer so what if He didn’t or not in the way that was asked. I have to admit that this stops me from praying for people sometimes. What if I get it wrong? I likely do sometimes. I keep praying anyway and running back to my Dad because He has the answers, not me.