What did that notification say? No, that’s not what I think it is… Barely turning my eyes and rolling out of bed, I had pressed the home button on my phone to check the time, but there it was. A Venmo announcement that a generous donor had sent money to help cover the cost of a new order of prayer journals.

The previous morning, I had spent my prayer time writing out how I wanted to trust God more in everything I do. I wanted to rely on him and his goodness and not my own strengths and talents. Not even an hour later, I found out that a box of journals ordered for my team’s trip to Ghana had been stolen off my doorstep without my knowing.

All day I battled inwardly. I was frustrated by the theft and also incredibly ashamed to approach my team with the news. What would they think? At the same time, I knew God would do something. He knew this was going to happen. He knew that the person who stole it would be in for a real surprise to see a box of journals instead of something else. God knew that this has been an anxiety of mine because I’ve been waiting for these journals to arrive in time for our trip. Also, we have had nothing stolen on our doorstep in the time we’ve lived here, so the irony that it was a box of prayer journals is pretty ironic!

Even still, the Venmo from a sweet donor came as a relief. I knew God was going to do something, and I had peace even in my wrestling, but I hadn’t expected that. I was hoping for a mysterious redelivery of the stolen box or something of that nature.

Has this happened to you where you’re looking at an answer to prayer, one that you absolutely needed, and felt numb?

I hate to say it, but that’s exactly how I felt. I saw the message, knew God had answered it, and was like “ok. awesome. moving on.”

Why wasn’t I falling on my knees in gratitude? Why weren’t there tears pouring from my eyes at God’s miraculous provision? Why wasn’t I moved to a posture of immense praise to the God who saw and cared for a very specific need?

Why was my heart so hard?

My husband and I are following The Bible Recap and their read the Bible in a year plan. We’ve been in the thick of Second Kings and Second Chronicles. It’s absolutely fascinating reading about the kings of Israel and Judah. I think the greatest irony is that these two kingdoms were supposed to be God’s chosen people and yet they chose to have kingdoms without God.

In 2 Kings 13, there’s a story of King Jehoash of Israel (Israel consisted of 10 of the 12 tribes while the Kingdom of Judah consisted of 2). The Kings of Israel were notorious for worshipping other gods other than Yahweh and yet, in the midst of it, God still sent them some of the greatest prophets. One of them was Elisha. As Elisha was dying, King Jeohash ran to his bedside bewildered over the invasion of Aram. Their army would not be able to withstand the coming invasion and they needed a miracle.

Elisha, more or less their good luck charm, was only consulted because King Jehoash and his man-made gods could not do anything. In God’s good faithfulness to a faithless nation, Elisha prophesied that Jehoash would in fact defeat Aram three times. God again remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and a miracle happened.

So after this miracle, what should the response have been? Did King Jehoash remove the man made gods? Did he fall to his face and repent of his ways? Did he lead his nation back to the God of gods?

No. He stayed hard hearted and the miracle had no affect on him other than his life and kingdom was spared. King Jehoash did not respond in worship.

Is it possible we’ve gotten used to the miraculous around us? Is it possible there’s even a sense of entitlement surrounding a miracle? With my journals, we’re taking them to Ghana on a mission trip. Surely God would want that to happen! Israel’s God’s chosen people, surely he wouldn’t want another nation demolishing them (this is tongue and cheek, God does in fact let his people go into a time of captivity).

I wonder if the disciples got used to seeing Jesus doing amazing things? At first, it was probably exhilarating watching Jesus heal a leprous man or a bleeding woman. But what about the 50th time he did it? Had the miracles lost their luster? Had wonder disappeared from their lives? Has wonder lost mine?

Maybe the hard heartedness isn’t so much about God being less amazing because in reality, if we saw God on his throne, we would be on our faces instantly. He is so grand and powerful and the creatures that surround his throne know it.

I think what has often led to my hard heartedness is that I lose sight of my gratitude and just love for a grand God who loves me. I get entitled thinking that of course God would do this!

And it’s not to say that it’s bad to have confidence in his faithfulness. I’m glad that an automatic response from me is to know he will show up, but the question to ask is, what’s the posture of my heart? Am I glad he’s filling my needs because it’s about me? or am I glad he’s filling my needs because he knows I need him and he loves me?

For the Pharisees to watch Jesus do his miracles and not change is upsetting. To watch the Kings of Israel and Judah not change their hearts to bow before God is upsetting. But do we know that the “little” miracles in our lives are also led to change our hearts to bow before God? Are the miracles in our lives causing us to love and follow Jesus more? Or are we still more concerned building our own kingdoms?

Our jobs, homes, families, the simple good things in our lives are to remind us that our God is the giver of good things. He fills our lives with wonder and we often take it for granted. If I don’t regularly maintain an attitude of gratitude and humility, it’s no wonder why I’m not moved to worship when God shows up in “bigger miracles.”

After I reflected on the donation, I began to write in my journal asking that I wouldn’t be numb to his faithfulness. I begged that I wouldn’t be accustomed to his provision in my every day. I began to list the other blessings in my life that happened throughout the day.

Honestly, we see miracles all day every day. The way our bodies function enough for us to be alive is a miracle. The way God sustains the earth and all our needs through the sun and rain is a miracle. It has taken power outages in my home to remind me that I’m not even in control of the power in my house and we pay our electric bill every month!

Have we all become blind to the goodness of God? Maybe. Certain seasons in our lives I think allow us to be more sensitive and ready to worship God. But then there are seasons of plenty and sometimes it’s hard to remember that God is the God of the harvest just as much as he is the God of the famine.

The other hard reality is asking ourselves if we’re entitled to God’s goodness. Maybe we’ve gotten to a place where we think God owes us and our relationship with him is transactional. It’s hard to worship and give gratitude out without that posture of humility.

Or maybe, we’re more focused on building our kingdoms and recognizing God’s miracles and provision would force us to reckon that maybe we’re not really living surrendered lives. Maybe our focus is entirely on ourselves rather than asking God what he would have us do. In Romans 2 it says, “the kindness of the Lord leads to repentance.” Acknowledging his goodness could cause us to repent of things we don’t want to. It’s our way and we want it like that.

For me, I’ve watched how the Israelite kings ruined their nations and their lives. Their legacies were of turmoil and of “doing evil in the eyes of the Lord.” I don’t want that to be mine. I don’t want to build a life where I’m hard hearted to the goodness of God. He is fortunately, very faithful and kind. He walks with us and won’t abandon us. He is long-suffering. I want to be his friend and live a long life with him.