What Happens When Your Prayers Are Not Answered or Don’t Work as Promised or Believed?
When God Refuses Your Prayers!
Mama always prayed!
Growing up, my parents, especially my mom, taught me about several things I can and can’t remember. But one thing I can fully remember is praying, which is a means of talking to the Almighty Jehovah.
According to her, the only person in life who would never fail me is God, the only friend anyone can have. Was it true? God is so good and kind; this saying was etched into my heart. I never knew what she meant. Several times when life's conditions became so unfair to us, my mom would kneel down at midnight and cry as she talked to God, at least that's what I can call it because I didn't remember hearing her just mouth rolling up and down, moving, tears flowing down her eyes as she wiped them out with her bare hands.
Yet, some would still stream down, flowing into her mouth. She wouldn’t even care. I would just watch her doing that and sleep off again in the cold night, in a zinc house that leaks during the rainy seasons. This was not the first time this had happened. When this kind of behavior continued for many nights, I would wonder what could have warranted my mom to shed that kind of tears.
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As a child, I truly didn't know what was going on. Several times, within my head, all I could think was either a friend or father had offended my mom. Maybe God knows something so hard is disturbing her that she can't talk about it. I never knew what it truly was as a kid. Since I was used to the usual time she woke up to pray at night, one day at the early hours before waking up, I called out to my mom to ask her why she was in tears as she was about to take me to school and leave for church (early morning prayers) before the bell rings.
All she did was laugh and patted my head, claiming I was a kid who could never understand. As she was saying this, I could sense her voice was almost cracked, her throat drying up, almost in tears, as she salivated. She refused to let the tears drop from her eyes. All in emotions again. What kind of mother cries before her kids? So she instantly wiped it out with a local wrapper (that she wore) and gently carried me to school, not saying one word.
I could only feel the scorching sun and my mother's hands held tightly to me as we walked flip-flop, her chest heavy, about to rise and burst out. All I could think that day was how I could solve that problem since I was not God. Besides, I was a kid, and she only said she had prayed about it. If she had prayed so dearly as she had claimed, and I had seen, why was God not in haste to answer her?
Seeing her at that condition will forever change my life as I grew up. I can't really tell how, but I knew from that moment I saw the world in a different light; I would come to understand. Maybe I was the light to the endless darkness she had been praying for. But I knew deep down her prayers were not answered, and she kept on believing and hoping that one day would make the difference.
To her, even when God did not answer her prayers, He knows the best. I have never seen any faith like my mom's before or as I grew up, up till date. Her relentless belief has given me hope beyond doubt that even when nothing changes, we should keep praying. Praying is not just about God answering our prayers but just like our earthly father, whom we keep telling our problems, only to rise up one day and do it all.
That's my belief, and I stand on it. There's always a time for every prayer to be answered! So far as God is alive!
Mama always prayed; she never complained!
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