When I sincerely pray for something, and it absolutely does not come true, I begin to ask myself, ‘are we just fooling ourselves?’
I have two options at that point. I can say, ‘God must not be real,’ or I can say ‘God must not work in the ways I expect him to work.’
When I watch the breathtaking machine that is a firefly at dusk, or recognize the golden spiral in a chambered nautilus, or glimpse the harmony with which the intricate systems in our bodies play together, I tend to lean towards the latter option; His ways are more mysterious than mine.
Raw Spoon
