“Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me,

but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you,

for power is made perfect in weakness.’”

I had a big question that I was asking God. It was near the beginning of the spring semester at the Air Force Academy in my sophomore year. The first day of my junior year carried with it a commitment to serve in the Air Force for five years following graduation and commissioning as an officer or, if I left for some reason before graduating, for four years in the enlisted ranks. One way or the other, like all cadets, I was committed by starting my junior year. For those who had questions about that commitment or desired a break before progressing, there was a program called “Stop Out.” If approved, I could take a year off from the Academy and return to start my junior year or decide to not return, no strings attached. A special allowance was made in the Stop Out program for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to take two years off to go on mission. A close friend of mine had already announced his intention to go on Stop Out, which made the question real. Additionally, in secret, I had begun thinking about the priesthood and knew that not taking Stop Out meant at least seven years before I could seriously consider that possibility (there were positive and negative implications of that!). 

I was asking God if I should go on Stop Out. I had already asked everyone else I could think of: my parents, trusted mentors, friends, other family, and people I considered spiritual authorities in my life. It was not unanimous, but most thought, overly simplified, that I should finish what I started. I had also made my chart of positive and negative consequences or ramifications for both decisions. That wasn’t completely clear to me either (of course, my chart included the possibility of priesthood, which almost no one else knew). I had prayed about it and considered my own feelings, but I was still in a quandary. The deadline was fast approaching and not deciding would simply be a passive acceptance of the status quo. I wasn’t used to doing things passively, so that option didn’t seem like the right thing to do. It seemed like giving up. The tension was building and since God knew my secret, I sought an answer from him. 

I wanted a clear answer from God. Most of the time, we don’t get clear answers from God. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, we may get an ambiguous sign that we must still interpret. In the vast majority of cases, we are called on to use the gift of reason to discern what seems like the best direction based upon what we know about ourselves, God, and the situation. This process should rely heavily on prayer and we must be sensitive to our own emotions and the unfolding of circumstances, but it is pretty much up to us. Occasionally, we may get a sign following a decision that seems to confirm our direction, if that’s the way we interpret it. I was more bold: I wanted a clear answer from God. 

Against the odds, this one time, God answered me. A few of us cadets had been given permission to have a weekly time of prayer in the Cadet Chapel. It was mostly individual prayer and on this particular night, I found a dark corner to wrestle with God about my question. It’s was not audible, but as clearly as if it was, God said to me, “I have placed you where I want you, bring about my kingdom where you are.” I let go, cried, and surrendered. I believed. God answered my question, but he did so much more. Time and again, I have returned to that moment and those words. Time and again, I have trusted God’s providence. In a profound way, with big and small questions (even in a pandemic), these words have shaped my life. They have formed me. Do you think that’s how it was with Paul? How about you?