We call out, but prayers seem to echo and bounce back. We think we do all the right things. We read the Bible, volunteer at church, cook chicken soup for our sick neighbor—but we still sense this echo chamber of isolation. Is God really there?
The crowd hooted and whooped. Handclapping sounded like thunderous downpour. I walked across the stage and received my diploma from Dallas Theological Seminary, and it felt monumental. Spiritual. Euphoric. I was a success! I woke up the next day to tired kids complaining about going to school. The GI Joe battlefield exploded in most of our living room. The empty milk carton signaled the urgency of a Kroger run. So, how does God measure success when our schedules are full of paycheck gigs or clamoring kids—and hustling to cook tacos for dinner?