There was a season a few years back where I prayed about the same thing every single day. I will keep the details private, because they are not only mine to share. But I can tell you it was a real need, and I was asking the way you ask when you have run out of other ideas. Every morning. Every night. Sometimes in the car at a red light.
And for a long time, nothing moved. The problem was there when I woke up and there when I went to bed. If you have been in that place, you know the specific tiredness of it. You are not angry exactly. You are just worn down. You start to wonder if anyone is on the other end of the line.
The word I was leaving out
Somewhere in that stretch I started saying one more word at the end of my sentences. Not out loud to God. Out loud to myself. Nothing has changed yet. The job has not come through yet. The relationship is not healed yet. I am not okay yet.
That little word did more for me than any book I read that year. It does not promise an outcome. It does not pretend things are fine. It just keeps the door open. Yet means the story has more pages. Yet means I am in the middle, not the end.
I think that is what hope actually is. Not a warm feeling that shows up when things are going well. A decision to leave the door open when every part of you wants to lock it and walk away.
What waiting was doing to me
Here is what I did not see until later. The waiting was changing me even when it was not changing my situation. I got gentler with other people who were struggling. I stopped assuming that someone who was stuck just was not trying hard enough. I learned to sit with my son when he was upset without rushing to fix it, because I knew what it felt like to not be fixable on a schedule.
I also got more honest. When you pray the same thing for months, you run out of fancy words. You end up saying things like, I am tired, I do not understand, please. And I think that is the kind of prayer that was always meant to be prayed. Short. Plain. True.
None of that was the answer I was asking for. But I would not trade it now.
What I would tell you if we were sitting on my porch
Keep asking. Not because asking forces an outcome, but because asking keeps you turned the right direction. A person who stops praying usually stops hoping right after, and then the waiting gets so much heavier.
Say the whole truth when you pray. If you are frustrated, say so. If you feel ignored, say so. You are not going to surprise God with a feeling.
Look for small movement. The big thing may still be stuck, but notice the friend who called, the night you slept well, the one good conversation. Those are not the answer, but they are not nothing. They are proof you are not forgotten.
And add the word. Say it every time you catch yourself writing the ending early. Not yet.
Play a Positive Phil game
Hope Hangman
Guess the word. Keep the sun up.
On days when hope feels thin, I built a small game called Hope Hangman. It is just word play around words that point the right direction. It is a silly little thing, but it has pulled my head up on a few gray afternoons. Give it a try if you need a minute away from the heavy stuff.
How my season ended
The thing I was praying for did eventually shift. Not all at once, and not in the shape I had pictured. It took much longer than I wanted. But when I look back, the part that mattered most was not the day it changed. It was the months of showing up when it had not.
If you are in your own long stretch right now, I am not going to tell you it will be over soon. I do not know that. But I will tell you that you are not wasting your time, and you are not talking to an empty room. Keep the door open.
Yet is the most hopeful word you own. Nothing has changed yet.
