I was thinking of my daughters today, and how they’ll ask the same question over and over, trying to get a different response – as many times as I will permit.  Sometimes, when they are especially persistent, I have to say, I’ve answered that question.  I’m not going to change my mind.  And I’m not going to talk about it anymore.

So many times, like a child, I only hear what I want to hear.  I ask again and again, hoping against hope for a different answer this time.  But really, I know the answer.  I know the next step, that giant to be conquered (even if he’s only gigantic in my mind).  And as long as I’m unwilling, as long as I am giving in to fear instead of surrendering to God, is it any wonder that He is silent?  What more is there to say?  He’s told me the answer.  He has shown me the path to the promised land.  It is up to me to choose to set my feet upon it or not, to set my face like flint and follow my Lord.  But it’s no good asking, Where are you, God?  Because I already know He’s up ahead . . . . . on that path . . . . . the one I don’t want to tread.