The Father Who Knows What You Want

Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman • October 2, 2025
Four ice cream cones with vanilla, strawberry, cookies and cream, and chocolate ice cream.

It’s easy to give your kid what he’s asking for. It’s hard to give him what he wants.


If a kid asks to eat an ice cream cone, there’s nothing wrong with giving him one. But if he’s grumpily demanding an ice cream cone at 7:45 in the morning, what he wants — whether he realizes it or not — is some protein and whole grains and a little encouragement to get him going on his day.


So you give him eggs and toast, and you watch him struggle to accept it. Sometimes he does and sometimes he doesn’t, but either way, you’ll be here. You’ll forgive him for whatever names he calls you and you’ll put the healthy breakfast in the fridge, waiting for him when he’s ready to eat it.


“Increase my faith.” I’ve said it to God plenty of times, imagining a prayer life that is effortless and a sacramental life that is uncomplicated, an acceptance of truth that is unshakeable. Easy faith — that’s what I’m asking for, and lots of it, please.


But easy faith isn’t faith at all, and faith that you aren’t strong enough to hold will break your arms. And what God will never do is say, “Sure, kiddo, here you go,” and pass off a false gift as the real thing, just to make us both feel good. He won’t hand me something I’m not strong enough to hold.


That would be a classic lazy-father move. That would be an ice-cream-cone-at-7:45 a.m. move.


Instead, He watches carefully while I navigate the bumpy terrain of the spiritual life, ready to whisper directions in my ear. He holds his breath while the challenges of this world create deep grooves in my soul — and then He irrigates those grooves with the life-giving waters of grace, transforming them into valleys of consolation and respite.


Sometimes I call Him names. Sometimes I refuse what He’s offering. It’s not what I asked for, after all.


But it’s what I want. Luckily, He knows that better than me.

 

©LPi

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