Your Life Is Not a Test of How Effortlessly You Can Accomplish Things

I once believed that if God opened a door for you, everything behind that door would come easily. After all, why would God open a door of blessing only for you to encounter difficulties? How could an answered prayer come with obstacles, struggles, and responsibilities?

Yesterday, my husband and I went with our church to see the movie Joshua. It was a wonderful film that reminded me of how God led the children of Israel to the Promised Land, yet they still had to fight to possess it.

The Israelites faced numerous battles as they entered the land, including the defeat of 31 kings, as recorded in Joshua 12:7–24. Their inheritance was promised, but possessing it required courage, obedience, perseverance, and warfare. Even after spending 40 years wandering in the wilderness, their arrival at the Promised Land did not mean their struggles were over.

Imagine if every time they encountered another enemy, they questioned whether God had truly given them the land!

The promise was real, but that did not mean possessing it would be effortless.

Thankfully, most of us will never have to fight 31 kings. However, we may encounter 31 struggles of our own along the way.

This made me wonder: Where did we get the idea that if God opens a door, everything behind that door should be easy?

I believe part of this misunderstanding comes from certain teachings within the charismatic movement and the prosperity gospel. Sometimes we are given the impression that if we pray, declare, and decree with enough faith, difficulties will disappear and blessings will come without much resistance.

But that is not necessarily the picture Scripture presents.

An opportunity can be genuine and still require hard work. An answered prayer can bring responsibilities. A blessing can introduce an entirely new set of challenges.

Consider the blessing of having children.

Becoming a parent is a tremendous blessing, but it also involves accepting responsibility for another human being throughout childhood and beyond. There are sleepless nights, financial obligations, difficult decisions, and countless sacrifices.

As children grow, they may struggle with academics, self-esteem, friendships, relationships, or finding their place in the world. Parents must learn how to guide them through these experiences with patience, wisdom, and love.

Those difficulties do not mean the children are any less of a blessing. Nor do they mean something has gone wrong or that God has somehow withdrawn His favor.

Sometimes the challenges are simply part of the responsibility that comes with receiving what we prayed for.

After all, your life is not a test of how effortlessly you can accomplish things. Encountering difficulties does not automatically mean you have taken the wrong path, missed God's will, or lacked sufficient faith.

Sometimes an open door is simply an opportunity to move forward, and walking through it requires the very courage, wisdom, and perseverance we are meant to develop along the way.

Hishtadlut: Faith Requires Action

I once misunderstood divine providence. I thought it meant praying and waiting for God to act. But I have learned that God can also work through our efforts and the knowledge and abilities of others.

In Jewish thought, hishtadlut means making responsible human effort while trusting God. In many traditional Jewish teachings, hishtadlut is not merely a suggestion but a religious responsibility. We are expected to act rather than simply wait for Heaven to intervene.

Hishtadlut works alongside bitachon (trust in God). Our efforts become the kli (vessel) through which divine blessings can flow.

You can pray for provision and seek employment. Pray for marriage and accept an introduction. Pray for children and seek medical assistance.

Faith doesn't mean sitting back and waiting for a miracle. Sometimes, if we want Heaven to move, we must first be willing to move ourselves.

Sometimes We Want God to Do the Part We're Afraid to Do

 When I first started my online business I have to admit I was so afraid of marketing.   I'm an introvert, and I have never been particularly comfortable putting myself out there. I worried about what friends and family would think, whether they would question my prices, or whether my business would fail and leave me feeling embarrassed.

And then there was another fear: What if my business became successful and everyone started approaching me with questions, requests, and orders? I wanted customers, but I didn't necessarily want people constantly in my face and in my personal space.

I just wanted God to bless my business and make it successful without my having to deal with all those uncomfortable situations.

Eventually, I pushed myself to invite my closest friends and family to like my Facebook business page. It might seem like a small accomplishment, but for me, it was a major step. I remembered Joyce Meyer saying that sometimes you have to "do it afraid." And that was exactly what I was doing.

Looking back, I recognize something about my former understanding of faith. Sometimes we want God to intervene supernaturally because we don't want to confront the difficult or uncomfortable process of solving a problem ourselves.

The same mindset can influence how we approach our health. Going to the doctor can be frightening. We may fear a diagnosis, dread a medical procedure, or struggle with taking time away from work. Sometimes it feels easier to pray for God to remove the problem than to face what might be required to address it.

I know that feeling because I once believed that sincere prayer would eliminate whatever was wrong with my body without my having to confront it through medical treatment.

But why did I believe that seeking medical assistance was somehow inferior to receiving supernatural healing?

What if the medical treatment was part of the very provision I had been praying for?

Consider Joseph in Genesis 41. God revealed the coming famine, but Joseph still had to organize Egypt's food supply. In Exodus 31, God gave Bezaleel wisdom and craftsmanship, but Bezaleel still had to build the tabernacle. Their human participation did not diminish God's involvement in either account.

Perhaps the same principle applies to our lives. We can pray for a successful business while still having to market our products. We can pray for healing while still needing to visit a physician. We can pray for financial stability while still having to pursue employment or develop new skills.

And perhaps we need to recognize that not every uncomfortable step is something God is supposed to remove from our path.

Sometimes the answer to prayer may involve having the courage to do the very thing we have been hoping God would do for us.

The God Who Works Through Human Hands: Rediscovering Divine Providence

I remember a prophet coming to town and declaring that everyone within the sound of his voice would never again be touched by a surgeon's knife. He proclaimed that God would heal His people supernaturally, eliminating the need for surgery.

I believed every word of it. I genuinely thought that because I had received that prophecy, I would never need an operation.

Well, years later, I found myself on an operating table, undergoing surgery.

Looking back, I wonder how many others held on to that same prophecy. How many may have delayed or refused necessary medical treatment because they believed having surgery would contradict God's promise?

I sometimes think about the possibility that people could have prematurely lost their lives because they trusted that prophecy instead of seeking medical care. A message intended to inspire faith could have had devastating consequences for someone who believed that accepting medical intervention meant doubting God.

And that raises an important question: Who said there was anything wrong with a surgeon's knife in the first place?

Did God not give humanity the intelligence to study anatomy, understand disease, develop surgical techniques, and create medicines that save lives?

Why do we sometimes treat human knowledge as though it competes with God's power?

Joseph: God's Provision Required Human Planning

In Genesis 41:33–36, Joseph interpreted Pharaoh's dreams concerning seven years of abundance followed by seven years of famine.

But Joseph did not simply tell Pharaoh to pray and wait for God to supernaturally provide food.

Instead, he recommended appointing administrators, collecting a portion of the harvest, and storing food in preparation for the famine.

When the famine arrived, Egypt had food because people had planned ahead.

The biblical account presents Joseph's wisdom as coming from God, yet that wisdom still required human participation.

God's provision did not eliminate the need for preparation.

Imagine if Joseph had declared that storing food demonstrated a lack of faith and that God would simply make food appear when the people became hungry.

How many lives might have been lost?

Bezaleel: When God Gave Skill Instead of Performing the Work Himself

In Exodus 31:1–5, God appointed a craftsman named Bezaleel to help construct the tabernacle.

God declared:

"And I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship." — Exodus 31:3 (KJV)

Notice that God did not cause the completed tabernacle to descend from heaven. He equipped human beings with the knowledge and craftsmanship necessary to build it.

The materials still had to be gathered, measured, shaped, and assembled.

Human hands still had to perform the work.

If Scripture recognizes craftsmanship and practical knowledge as gifts from God, why should we automatically separate modern scientific discoveries and medical advancements from His provision?

What About the Wisdom God Gives Humanity?

Proverbs 2:6 states:

"For the LORD giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding." — Proverbs 2:6 (KJV)

Consider the knowledge required to perform modern surgery. Physicians spend years studying the human body, learning medical procedures, and developing the skills necessary to treat patients.

Scientists spend decades researching diseases, developing medications, and improving treatments.

These accomplishments involve intelligence, discipline, experimentation, and cooperation.

If Christians believe human intelligence is a gift from God, why do we sometimes treat the accomplishments of that intelligence as something less spiritual than supernatural intervention?

Why should a patient who recovers through surgery have a lesser testimony than someone who reports being healed without medical treatment?

Sometimes We Would Rather God Do Everything

I have also come to recognize something about my former understanding of faith.

Sometimes we prefer supernatural intervention because we do not want to confront the difficult process of solving a problem.

Going to the doctor can be frightening. We may fear a diagnosis, dread a medical procedure, or struggle with taking time away from work. Sometimes it feels easier to pray for God to remove the problem than to face what might be required to address it.

I know that feeling because I once believed that sincere prayer would eliminate whatever was wrong with my body without my having to confront it.

But why did I believe that seeking medical treatment was somehow inferior to receiving supernatural healing?

What if the medical treatment was part of the provision I had been praying for?

Joseph still had to organize Egypt's food supply. Bezaleel still had to construct the tabernacle. Their participation did not diminish God's involvement in either biblical account.

Perhaps faith was never meant to excuse us from using the knowledge, resources, and opportunities available to us.

Conclusion: God Can Work Through Human Hands

I no longer believe that a surgeon's knife represents a failure of faith. Nor do I believe that an answer to prayer becomes less divine simply because a doctor, scientist, teacher, or other human being played a role.

When we elevate supernatural intervention above ordinary provision, we risk overlooking valuable solutions. And in matters involving serious illness, that belief can have consequences far beyond disappointment. Delaying necessary care while waiting for supernatural healing can cost someone their life.

I am not dismissing the possibility of miracles. I am questioning why we have created a hierarchy in which the less human participation involved, the greater we believe God's power must be.

Joseph's planning saved lives. Bezaleel's craftsmanship fulfilled a sacred purpose. Neither biblical account required God to bypass human intelligence to accomplish His purposes.

Perhaps God has been working through human hands all along, but we have become so conditioned to look for the supernatural that we have overlooked His provision in the ordinary.

Two Women, Two Pregnancies, One God: Why Do We Celebrate One Testimony More Than the Other?

Angela and Denise are two women in their mid-forties who both welcomed their first children at age 46. Angela conceived spontaneously after struggling with unexplained infertility for decades, while Denise conceived after receiving fertility treatment with Clomid, a medication prescribed by her physician to stimulate ovulation.

One Sunday morning, both women stand before their congregation to share their testimonies.

Angela goes first. She tells the congregation how she struggled with infertility for years, prayed faithfully, and eventually became pregnant without medical intervention. The congregation erupts with excitement. People shout, "Hallelujah!" and "Praise the Lord!" Others declare, "God opened her womb!" Her testimony is celebrated as a powerful demonstration of God's miraculous intervention.

Then Denise stands to share her testimony. She explains how she and her husband struggled to conceive, sought medical assistance, underwent fertility evaluations, and eventually conceived after her physician prescribed Clomid.

But this time, the reaction is different. There are no enthusiastic shouts of "Hallelujah!" No one declares that God opened her womb. Instead, the congregation responds with polite smiles, quiet nods, and scattered applause.

Why the different reactions?

Both women struggled with infertility. Both desired children. Both prayed, and both eventually welcomed their first babies at age 46. Yet one testimony was celebrated as a miracle, while the other was treated as an ordinary medical success.

But who determined that God intervened in Angela's pregnancy and not Denise's?

Angela conceived spontaneously, but does that automatically mean God supernaturally opened her womb? Are we suggesting that God literally touched her reproductive organs or sent an angel to facilitate conception?

Perhaps Angela conceived because previously undetected fertility issues involving her or her husband had improved. Perhaps certain biological conditions finally aligned in a way that made conception possible. The truth is, without knowing the precise circumstances, we cannot say exactly why Angela became pregnant after so many years.

Yet because her pregnancy occurred without medical assistance, the congregation automatically interpreted it as a greater demonstration of God's power.

Meanwhile, Denise's pregnancy involved something that is not always celebrated with the same enthusiasm in certain Christian circles: human cooperation.

Denise had to make a doctor's appointment, undergo medical evaluations, and discuss treatment options. Her husband also participated in the fertility evaluation process. They had to follow medical instructions, attend appointments, and take practical steps toward achieving their goal.

It required time, effort, and a willingness to confront potentially uncomfortable information about their reproductive health.

And perhaps this reveals another issue within our understanding of faith.

Sometimes, as believers, we would rather God intervene supernaturally than participate in the process ourselves. We may fear what a doctor will discover. We may not want to take time away from work, undergo medical procedures, change our habits, or confront difficult realities. Instead, we pray that God will simply remove the problem so that we never have to face it.

I understand that mindset because I once approached certain difficulties in my own life that way. I believed that if I prayed sincerely enough, God would resolve the issue without requiring me to confront it through ordinary human means.

But I have begun questioning that understanding of faith.

Why do we sometimes treat human participation as though it diminishes God's involvement?

In 1 Corinthians 4:7, Paul asks, "And what hast thou that thou didst not receive?" This question reminds believers that even the things we accomplish through our own efforts are not entirely independent of what we have received.

Similarly, James 1:17 declares that "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above."

If Christians believe that God created humanity with the intelligence to study reproductive biology, develop fertility medications, and assist couples experiencing infertility, why should Denise's pregnancy be considered less worthy of praise simply because medical science played a role?

Psalm 139:13–16 beautifully describes God's intimate knowledge of human development in the womb. Yet nothing in that passage suggests that a child conceived with medical assistance is any less wonderfully made than a child conceived spontaneously.

Perhaps both Angela and Denise have reasons to be grateful. Perhaps both pregnancies can be understood within God's providential care, even though the circumstances surrounding their conceptions were different.

And perhaps the congregation's contrasting reactions reveal more about our expectations of how God should work than about God's actual involvement in either pregnancy.

We have become accustomed to celebrating the testimony in which God seemingly bypasses human effort, while overlooking the courage, perseverance, medical knowledge, and cooperation involved in another person's journey.

But why should the woman who prayed and visited a fertility specialist receive less enthusiastic praise than the woman who prayed and conceived without treatment?

Perhaps we need to stop measuring the greatness of a blessing by how little human involvement was required to receive it.

Spiritual Exceptionalism: When Being a Child of God Becomes an Expectation of Special Treatment

I admit that I once believed that because I was a Christian, there were certain troubles I should not have to experience. I thought that if someone was constantly facing hardships, perhaps God did not consider them spiritually mature enough to receive His blessings, or maybe there was some hidden sin in their life preventing them from experiencing His favor.

But as I have grown and begun questioning some of the things I was taught, I find myself asking: Does belonging to God mean we should be exempt from the ordinary struggles of being human?

I believe phrases such as "I am a child of the Most High God" and "I am fearfully and wonderfully made" can sometimes become distorted into the belief that Christians should not have to experience illness, fertility challenges, financial hardship, or other difficulties that are part of the human experience. We begin to think that our relationship with God should somehow place us above the circumstances that affect everyone else.

Yet Jesus Himself said in Matthew 5:45 that God "maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." In other words, both favorable and unfavorable circumstances are part of life, regardless of one's spiritual standing.

In John 16:33, Jesus told His disciples, "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." Notice that He did not promise His followers a life free from trouble. He openly acknowledged that they would experience difficulties.

Even the Apostle Paul, despite his devotion to God, spoke of a persistent affliction that he pleaded with the Lord three times to remove. Instead of removing it, God responded, "My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

If someone as devoted as Paul could experience ongoing suffering, why have we developed the belief that hardship must indicate spiritual immaturity, hidden sin, or a lack of faith?

Perhaps being a child of God was never intended to mean that we would be exempt from the human experience. Perhaps we have confused our spiritual identity with a promise of preferential treatment, creating expectations that Scripture itself does not establish.

And when those expectations go unmet, instead of questioning what we were taught, we sometimes begin questioning ourselves, our faith, or our standing with God.

Is God Less Present When the Answer Comes Through Human Hands?

We've all heard the testimonies. Sister Lee went to the doctor and was told she needed surgery on her knee. Instead of immediately proceeding with the surgery, she prayed and fasted, believing God for healing. Two weeks later, when she returned for her preoperative evaluation, the doctors discovered that her knee had been completely healed.

Then there's Brother Brown, who was behind on his rent and facing eviction. With no money to pay what he owed, he turned to God in desperate prayer. Suddenly, a stranger appeared out of nowhere and handed him an envelope filled with money. When Brother Brown turned around to thank the stranger, the person had mysteriously vanished without a trace. 

These are the kinds of testimonies that capture the attention of a congregation. People rejoice, hands go up in praise, and the experience is celebrated as undeniable evidence of God's supernatural power.

But I have a question.

Why don't we hear just as many enthusiastic testimonies about someone who suffered from a bad hip, underwent hip replacement surgery, and regained their ability to walk without pain? Or someone who prayed for financial relief, applied for a higher-paying job, received an offer, and was finally able to pay their bills? 

No one necessarily says it out loud, but I believe we have created an unspoken hierarchy of blessings within the Body of Christ. The more extraordinary, mysterious, and unexplainable an experience is, the more readily we attribute it to God. Meanwhile, when an answer comes through ordinary means, medicine, employment, education, scientific discovery, or the generosity of another person, we sometimes treat it as a lesser demonstration of God's involvement.

But is that a biblical way of understanding how God works?

Does Every Good Gift Have to Be Supernatural?

James 1:17 tells us:

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." — James 1:17 (KJV)

Notice that James does not say every supernatural gift comes from above. He says every good gift.

That distinction is important.

If a physician uses years of education, scientific research, and medical experience to help someone overcome a disease, why should that diminish our gratitude toward God? Perhaps we have become so fascinated with the supernatural that we overlook the extraordinary intelligence, discoveries, and abilities God has given humanity. After all, if God created the human mind, why would we separate its accomplishments from His divine provision?

God Is Present in the Natural World, Too

In Matthew 5:45, Jesus says that God:

"...maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." — Matthew 5:45 (KJV)

This verse is often discussed in the context of loving our enemies, which is precisely the lesson Jesus was teaching. However, it also reveals something significant about God's provision.

God provides sunshine and rain through the ordinary processes of the natural world. The sun rises, clouds form, and rain falls. These things happen so routinely that we rarely stop to consider them.

Yet Jesus points to these ordinary events as examples of God's generosity.

He does not suggest that the sun becomes a greater demonstration of God's power if it suddenly appears in the middle of the night. Nor does He suggest that rain is more divine when it falls under mysterious circumstances.

Instead, He points to the familiar rhythms of creation.

Could it be that we have overlooked an important aspect of divine providence because we have been conditioned to look for God primarily in the unusual?

When rain nourishes crops, farmers harvest food, trucks transport it, and grocery stores make it available to families, we recognize the human effort involved. But does that mean God is absent from the process?

Why do we sometimes act as though the involvement of natural systems and human cooperation automatically makes something less spiritual?

Perhaps it is time for us to reconsider how we recognize and celebrate God's blessings. This is not about dismissing supernatural miracles, but about recognizing that God's provision does not have to be mysterious or unexplainable to be worthy of praise. Whether healing comes through an extraordinary event or the skilled hands of a surgeon, whether financial relief comes through an unexpected gift or a better-paying job, why should one be considered more spiritual than the other? Perhaps God has been working through ordinary people and everyday circumstances all along, but we have become so conditioned to look for the supernatural that we have overlooked His presence in the ordinary.