"Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have." 1 Peter 3:15

I always imagined that verse applying to conversations with sceptics.

Someone like a workmate who thinks Christianity is ridiculous or a stranger asking why you believe what you believe- someone generally challenging your faith. 

I wasn't expecting to need it at the breakfast table.

And this week, I was completely unprepared. My six year old left me stunned and scrambling for an answer.

She's been having nightmares lately.

So before bed, we prayed together. We asked Jesus to protect her through the night, take away the nightmares and fill her sleep with good dreams (her favs: unicorns, flowers and sunrises).

The next morning, we didn't really talk about it.
But that evening, when I went to pray with her again, she stopped me.

"Don't bother, Mum. I had a nightmare again last night. Jesus didn't protect me, so he probably won't tonight."

Then she looked at me.

"Is Jesus a liar?"

Well.

Goodnight everyone.

I had nothing.

In that moment I couldn't help but think about all those kids who crowded around Jesus. The ones the disciples tried to send away but that Jesus welcomed "let them come to me" he said. 

I imagine He would have smiled at the honesty of that question.

One that has no pretending or perfect church answer.
Just a little girl trying to make sense of the gap between what she prayed for and what actually happened.

And honestly, I didn't know what to say.

So I did what every spiritually mature Mum does when confronted with a massive theological question at bedtime.

I bought myself some time...

"That's a really good question," I told her. "Let's chat about it at breakfast."

Because if I'm honest, it's not just a six-year-old's question. It's ours too, right?

What do we do when we pray for something good and it doesn't happen?

When we pray for healing and sickness remains, or restoration but the relationship stays broken. When we pray for someone we love to know Jesus, year after year, and nothing seems to change.

When we pray for protection and still have nightmares.

Does that mean Jesus can't be trusted? Does unanswered prayer make Him a liar?

I don't think the answer is pretending disappointment isn't disappointing.

And I don't think it's telling ourselves that if we'd just prayed harder or found the right words that things would have gone differently.

Jesus never promised us a life where everything would happen the way we asked.

But He did make promises.

He promised he would never leave us or forsake us.
He promised his presence, and his peace.
He promised that he is working all things together for the good of those who love him and that whoever comes to him, he won't ever cast out.

And strangely, in a world where prayers don't always get answered the way we'd like, he still taught us to keep praying.

Pray without ceasing.

Not because prayer is a formula or because enough faith twists God's arm.

But because prayer keeps bringing us back to Him.

Back to the God we have come to know as good, even when what is happening around us doesn't make sense.

So the next morning, over a bowl of porridge, we talked about disappointment.

I told her the truth:

Sometimes we ask God for something and it doesn't happen the way we hoped.

Sometimes that's confusing.

And, sometimes it hurts.

Sometimes we won't understand why.

But one disappointment doesn't erase a lifetime of God's faithfulness.

One unanswered prayer doesn't undo His character. Our Father is still good and he still loves us.

Sometimes faith looks like bringing disappointment back to Jesus and saying:

I don't understand this. But I still know You.

So tonight, we'll pray again.

And tomorrow night.

Not because we've worked out all the answers.
But because we've come to know the one we're praying to.

And when we don't understand what He's doing, we can still remember who He is.

So we ask again. Without ceasing.