When God Doesn’t Answer the Way We Hoped

In 2019, I prayed the kind of prayer you never want to have to pray. My mom was battling cancer, and I begged God to heal her. I pleaded with Him to restore her body, to let her stay, to perform a miracle. I prayed with faith. I prayed with tears. I prayed from the depths of my soul.

And then… she died.

For a long time, I wrestled with that. If I’m honest, I still wrestle with it. I didn’t understand why God—who could heal—didn’t. Why He would allow someone so good, so loved, so needed, to slip away. Why He didn’t answer the way I asked Him to. Maybe you’ve prayed a similar prayer. Maybe you’re still waiting for the answer. Or maybe, like me, the answer came—but not in the way you hoped.

Sometimes we hear the phrase “God answers prayers,” and we think that means we’ll get the outcome we want. Healing. Restoration. A second chance. But sometimes, the healing doesn’t come in the form of a cure. Sometimes, the miracle looks like peace that doesn’t make sense. Sometimes, the answer is “not here… not now.”

That’s hard to swallow when you’re grieving.

In those early days after my mom passed, I felt a deep ache that words couldn’t touch. I knew all the right Sunday School answers. I knew she was in Heaven. I knew she wasn’t in pain anymore. But that didn’t stop me from missing her laugh, her hugs, her presence. It didn’t stop me from wondering: God, where were You?

And yet—He was there.

I look back now and see the subtle ways God did answer my prayer. Not with physical healing, but with soul-deep restoration. In her final weeks, my mom had peace. The kind of peace that doesn’t come from this world. She faced death with courage. With grace. With a settled heart. That was God. He was there in the quiet moments. In the comfort she brought others even while she was in pain. In the joy she found in the little things—warm blankets, family by her side, songs that reminded her she wasn’t alone. He healed parts of her heart that cancer couldn’t touch.

And maybe that’s the miracle I didn’t know to ask for.

Grief and Faith Can Coexist

I want you to know this: You can grieve and still believe. You can feel disappointed and still trust. You can say, “God, I don’t understand,” and still know He is good. It’s okay to wrestle. I did and still do. It’s okay to cry and not have all the answers. Jesus did too—in John 11, when His friend Lazarus died, He wept. Even though He knew resurrection was coming, He still entered into the pain of the moment.

That’s the kind of God we have. One who doesn’t dismiss our heartbreak but meets us in it.

Maybe you’re praying for healing, a breakthrough, a relationship to be restored. Maybe the silence feels unbearable. Maybe you’re wondering if God even hears you.

He does, Friend.

And even if the answer looks different than what you hoped, it doesn’t mean He’s distant. Sometimes, what we see as silence is really a chance to learn something new. Sometimes, what feels like disappointment is actually deep, invisible healing.

In Isaiah 55:8-9, God reminds us: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways… As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways.”

Let’s take a moment to be grateful that God’s thoughts and ways are not ours. That He sees more than what we can see and even comprehend. That He is in control at all times.

If you’re in the middle of the asking—if you’re still hoping, still praying, still crying out—I want to say this gently:

You are not alone. Your prayers matter. Your grief matters. Your faith doesn’t have to look polished and perfect. God is not afraid of your doubts, your anger, or your tears.

And even when the healing doesn’t come the way you want it to—He is still a healer.

My mom is healed now. Not in the way I asked for. But in a deeper, fuller, eternal way. And I’ll see her again. Until then, I’m learning to trust that sometimes, God’s “no” is actually a bigger “yes”—one I may not understand until I’m face to face with Him.

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Where is God in the NICU?

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More Than “Mom”: Finding Your Identity in Christ