“Whisper words of wisdom… let it be.”

That single line from The Beatles has always lingered in my heart—not just for its melody, but for its meaning. It speaks of surrender, of quiet trust, and of letting go of the desperate need to understand everything. And lately, it reminds me so much of God’s timing—how He works in ways we can’t always trace, but can still trust.

Because sometimes, even with the purest intentions, our prayers don’t unfold the way we hoped. And in those aching silences—in the gaps between our asking and His answering—we begin to question, “Lord, are You even listening?” We replay our words, wonder if our faith wasn’t strong enough, or if maybe we weren’t worthy of the miracle. But what if the problem isn’t the prayer at all? What if God is simply saying, “I see more than you do. And I have a better way”?

That’s why I’ve learned to pray differently. Not with entitlement, but with openness. I still tell God what my heart longs for. I lay my hopes before Him without filter. But more than ever, I end those prayers with a surrender: “Lord, if it’s not Your will, please don’t give it to me. Lead me where I’m meant to go, even if I don’t yet understand.”

And sometimes, my prayer is even simpler—raw, and honest: “Lord, I don’t fully understand Your will… but I trust that You do what is best.”

“If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

There’s a passage in Matthew 21:21–22 that often echoes in my reflections: “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.” But this promise isn’t a vending machine. It’s an invitation into alignment. To believe is not just to expect a result—it’s to anchor your heart in the One who knows the story from beginning to end. When our prayers are rooted in God’s heart, they don’t just move mountains around us—they move the mountains within us.

God’s silence is never absence. His “no” is never cruelty. And His detours are often the safest roads home.

So if you’re in a waiting season… if the answer feels late, or looks different than what you pictured—let this be your reminder: God’s silence is never absence. His “no” is never cruelty. And His detours are often the safest roads home. He hears you, even when all you hear is your own heartbeat in the dark. He sees you, even when you feel invisible to the world.

And His plan? It’s always better than ours.

So take a breath. Whisper your hope. And let it be… in His time.

With grace and trust,
Anj 🤍