HIS THOUGHTS, HIS WAYS

Clients had been piling up for me while work and studying were causing my husband’s energy to wane. Clothes were folded, but not put away. The dishwasher was loaded, but not started. A lot of commas where there used to be periods—I just felt, everything just felt, a little undone.

Credo, usually great at remembering the things I ask, hadn’t folded the towels or taken out the trash like I’d hoped. It wasn’t a big deal, really, but the thought crossed my mind: It would be nice if he remembered. As I continued sorting through dirty clothes, tossing the pile of shoes that had gathered at the front door into the closet, I glanced over at him—folded into his favorite blanket, sunk deep into his favorite spot on the couch.

I could have said something at that point. Reminded him that he forgot or asked him to help me. But, I was mostly done, and he was just about to take his off-day nap. So I left him to his quiet and I wandered upstairs to the guest room to finish some notes from work.

I started off watching One Tree Hill as I worked, then slowly transitioned to music. First, it was Elevation Worship. Then Cleo Sol. Eventually, I landed on an old album I hadn’t heard since my breakup in 2022—Broken Hearts Club by Syd. I listened to that album for months after that relationship ended, and hearing it again felt like a trip back in time.

Some songs took me back to our first bad argument—the one that ended with him screaming at me at a going-away party. Others brought up the long, exhausting conversations about how he acted on social media.

But the memory that lingered most was of one of my last visits to him. He was in the other room, on the game—like always. And I was in his room, watching TV—like always.

I remember trying to picture a life for us, to will something whole into existence. But all I could see—all that was truly there—was distance. Him in one world, me in another. Orbiting around each other without ever touching. Listening, but never really knowing. Tolerating, but never quite interested.

At the time, I had convinced myself he was the ceiling for me—the best I could do or should do. An audible laugh escaped my mouth. By then, Credo had migrated into the room, his hand resting on my thigh, gently cycling between rubbing and squeezing. And, in that moment, it occurred to me how awful my choices had been before him.

Left to my own knowledge and understanding, I chose a man who—put simply—just didn’t like me. And for dramatic purposes, let’s say hated me. Left to my own choices, I was ready to commit myself to someone I’d spend a lifetime trying to convince I was worth the effort.

BUT GOD. My very big, very loving God had something else prepared for me.

“those who know your name trust in you, for you, o lord, do not abandon those who search for you” psalms 9:10 [nlt]

Now, there isn’t enough time today—or any day after—to fully express the love and gratitude I have for the gift that is my husband. But because of him, I receive a daily whisper from God: “My ways are not your ways, and My thoughts are not your thoughts.” And if I lean in just a little closer, I hear Him say, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no heart has imagined what I have prepared for those who love Me.”

Most days, those whispers give me the warm and fuzzies—gentle reminders of how mindful God is of me. But today, they feel more like a rebuke. A reminder that He knows more and has seen more than I ever will. On my best day, I’m still only guessing—piecing together the best and worst thoughts I have of myself, hoping to land somewhere close to good.

But God—my God—the One who created the very days I exist in, who keeps the sun from falling out of my sky, who knows my beginning and my end… He doesn’t guess with my life. He didn’t oversleep or throw my moments together on a whim.

He already decided.

He already considered.

He thoughtfully designed and prepared His best for me— all based on His perfect knowledge of me.

“but the lord is in his holy templE; the lord still rules from heaven. he watches everyone closely, examining every person on earth” psalms 11:4 [nlt]

In full transparency, a few weeks ago, I told God I wasn’t sure He knew what He was doing with my life. The fact that He knew how certain things would break my heart—and still allowed them—just didn’t sit right with me. After some drawn-out temper tantrums and pouting, the same whisper happens again: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no heart has imagined what I have prepared for those who love Me.”

Taking His whisper as an invitation to revelation, He led me to the conversation Jesus had with Martha before raising Lazarus from the dead.

John 11:21-25 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

How have my responses to God been like Martha's?

• Thinking I know something when I don’t. Just like Martha, I base what I think God is going to do on what He has done before. SIKE. He’s doing a new thing.

• Putting limits on the power and wonder of God. Martha’s limited understanding of resurrection and life is evident in her response to Jesus. She doesn’t even realize what she doesn’t know. And honestly—we share her same limitations.

• If it were solely based on Martha’s belief and expectation, her brother wouldn’t be raised to life. She didn’t even know it was an option for him. How often is your confidence in your limited knowledge getting in the way of your complete reliance on God?

The truth is, when we use our free will to know and to decide without first submitting our imaginations and thoughts to God, we make a gross misstep. Even in this story—if Martha had known what God had prepared for her—she wouldn’t have been mourning when Jesus arrived; she would have been dancing.

In every “If only You...” moment I’ve had with God, I’ve been confronted with how little I actually know. And my refusal to accept my limitations has often stood in the way of fully trusting Him—as the all-knowing, perfect, and intentional Father that He is.

“For, ‘Who has known the mind of the lord so as to instruct Him?’ But we have the mind of christ. 1 corinthians 2:16 [niv]

Lately, it hasn’t been me whispering “If only You...” to God.
It’s been Him whispering “If only you...” to me.

If only you believed I had good things for you.
If only you trusted My heart toward you.

If only you knew Me, how much more could you believe in Me?

They haven’t sounded like commands or corrections. They’ve sounded like pleas. Like petitions. Like heartbreaking cries from a loving Father—longing for me to trust Him fully. Not blindly or out of obligation. But because trusting Him is the only thing that makes sense. It is the only thing that is true and right.

And now, I am turning over those same pleas, those same petitions, those same cries, over to you. Because no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no heart has imagined what God has prepared just for you. And it’s about time we start believing that.