Sometimes the road ahead looks murky. Hard to read.
This week I was praying seriously about a major decision regarding the mission property here in Brazil, seeking God for clarity. Quietly, deep in my spirit, I sensed the Lord whisper:
“You already know the next step. Just keep walking it out.”
I remember thinking, “Again?”
So much of life feels that way. We cannot see very far ahead, but usually we are given enough light for the next faithful step.
About an hour later, I received an unexpected WhatsApp message from a missionary in Central America whom I barely know. He was describing his own situation, but the final seven words stopped me in my tracks:
“We just need to walk it out.”
For him, it was simply part of a conversation. For me, it felt like a quiet confirmation from God.
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When the Heart Drops
Some prayers are answered just as we imagined. Others require the imagination of God.
Years ago, when I worked on the Dempster Highway in the northern Yukon, I experienced the thrill of an instant answer.
For part of the year, the road to the Arctic Ocean closed completely. The ferries stopped. The ice bridges were not yet safe. The trucks stopped running. The country went quiet.
One fall, I was returning from a month-long road trip while the highway was still closed. I spent the night in Dawson City, checked that my two spare tires were in good shape, and headed north.
Four hundred kilometres of shale road.
No traffic. No help. No cell phone.
Just mountains, river, sky, and the long grey ribbon of road disappearing ahead.
After about eighty kilometres, I got a flat.
I changed it and kept going.
Later, far beyond the last highway camp, I got another one.
This time I had no spare left.
I was beside the Ogilvie River, with mountains rising on both sides, still a long way from home. Anyone who has been stranded in the bush knows that feeling.
My heart dropped.
So I prayed.
“Lord, I need a spare tire.”
Then I remembered how unusual my truck was. Most trucks had six wheel bolts for 16-inch rims. Mine had five. I needed a very specific spare tire for my old pickup.
Still, I prayed.
And then, with the kind of boldness young faith sometimes has, I said, “Lord, You could do this in a week, or a day, or five minutes. It is all the same to You. I’m asking You to send this spare in five minutes.”
So I set a five-minute timer on my dash.
I walked around the truck praying, listening to the river roar beside me.
At about four and a half minutes, a thought came:
What are you going to do if nothing happens?
I answered, “I am believing God.”
And just then, a truck came roaring around the corner.
It was a government crew heading into the Richardson Mountains to count wild sheep someone had reported from an airplane. They were going to the same place I was. Their vehicle had the same oddball tire pattern as mine.
They lent me their spare.
I followed them back to Eagle Plains.
And my heart soared.
There are seasons when prayer feels like that.
You ask. God answers. The provision comes around the corner before the timer runs out.
Those moments are powerful. Exhilarating.
But Psalm 22 takes us somewhere deeper.
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The Prayer Jesus Chose
Most of us know Psalm 23.
“The Lord is my shepherd…”
Say those words, and the whole psalm opens inside us.
Green pastures. Quiet waters. The valley of the shadow. The table. The house of the Lord forever.
One line carries the whole song.
That is what Jesus did on the cross.
When He cried, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” He was not merely expressing despair.
He was invoking Psalm 22.
And Psalm 22 is not a poster psalm.
It begins in agony.
The heart is melting like wax. The body is exposed. Enemies stare. Hands and feet are pierced. Clothing is divided. Lots are cast.
The sufferer cries out for rescue.
And the rescue does not come in the way we expect.
That is the part that speaks to those of us whose hearts are dropping.
Because sometimes we pray for the spare tire, and the truck comes around the corner.
And sometimes we pray, and the road stays empty.
On the cross, Jesus entered the deepest unanswered prayer in human history. He asked to be delivered from death, and yet He remained obedient through death.
But Psalm 22 does not end in abandonment.
It turns.
“He has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; He has not hidden His face from him but has listened to his cry for help.”
That is the thunderclap in the middle of the psalm.
God had not turned away. God had not despised the suffering. God had not hidden His face.
The Father heard.
Even when, in Jesus’ case, the answer came through suffering, obedience, and resurrection rather than immediate escape.
My old blue pickup, exploring the ice roads that stretched north beyond the end of the highway and onto the Beaufort Sea.
Sometimes faith that only sees far enough for the next step still carries us farther than we ever imagined.
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The Missionary Psalm
Then Psalm 22 widens until it touches the ends of the earth.
“All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him.”
There it is.
From the cross, Jesus saw the nations.
From the place of suffering, He saw worship rising from every family of the earth.
From the place where it looked like evil had won, He saw generations yet unborn hearing the good news.
“They will proclaim His righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it.”
Or as Jesus said from the cross:
“It is finished.”
What was finished?
In Genesis, God promised that the serpent would not win forever.
At Calvary, Jesus broke the power of sin, death, and darkness through His obedience, sacrifice, and resurrection.
The decisive victory was won.
Now we walk it out.
And we carry that good news to the nations.
That is why missions still matters.
Not because we are trying to stay busy. Not because we think we can fix the world by human effort. Not because we are spiritual optimists with a few good projects.
We go because Jesus saw the nations from the cross.
We go because people still need to know that life with God is better than life without God.
We go because communities are not disposable.
We go because every person bears the image of God.
We go because coming generations still need someone to tell them:
God has not despised the suffering of the afflicted.
God has not hidden His face.
God has heard.
Jesus has done it.
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When Your Heart Drops
Some of you are praying right now, and the answer has not come the way you hoped.
You have believed. You have waited. You have tried to stay faithful.
And your heart feels tired.
Psalm 22 does not offer shallow optimism.
It offers something stronger.
It tells us that silence is not abandonment.
It tells us that suffering is not proof that God has turned away.
It tells us that obedience in the dark can become part of a story far bigger than we can see.
Sometimes the answer comes in five minutes.
Sometimes healing is real, but strength returns slowly.
Sometimes grief becomes part of a road we never wanted to walk.
And sometimes, beyond anything we could imagine, God brings resurrection.
But in every season, He remains faithful.
He sees. He hears. He walks with us.
And because of Jesus, the story is never finished in darkness.
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Family Update & Prayer
Next Wednesday, May 27, Deanna is scheduled to receive her final cancer treatment.
She has been cancer-free since last October, and these final treatments are part of the doctors’ complete protocol. We are deeply grateful — to God, to the doctors, to all who have prayed, and for the gift of modern medicine.
Now we are praying for renewed strength, joy, and stamina as she walks the long road back to fullness.
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Prayer Requests
Deanna’s continued health, strength, and full recovery.
Wisdom, favour, and clear direction as the possible sale of the Marabá property has opened again.
The Vineyard churches in Brazil as they prepare for their biggest international event to date in early June. Please pray for a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit and for God’s grace in every detail.
Our next steps in Portugal. With each trip, we see a little more clearly how God may be inviting us to help send missionaries and encourage a church-planting movement there. Life with God is simply better, and healthy churches become places of hope for those who are searching.
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Prayer
Lord Jesus,
Meet us when our hearts drop.
When prayers seem unanswered, when the road feels empty, when we cannot see what You are doing, teach us to trust You.
Thank You that You entered suffering from the inside.
Thank You that You were not abandoned, even when You carried the full weight of our sorrow.
Strengthen those who are still waiting.
Renew those who are tired.
Send hope around the corner where it is needed.
And send Your people to the ends of the earth with the good news that You have done it.
