Trusting When You Don't Understand
- tjlife7777
- Jan 24
- 5 min read
When God Asks for the Unreasonable
There are moments in life when God’s instructions don’t make sense. They challenge logic, stretch faith, and press directly against our comfort zones. Yet throughout Scripture—and even in our own lives—those moments often become the doorway to breakthrough. When God asks for the unreasonable, He is not trying to confuse us; He is inviting us into deeper trust.
Throughout the Bible, God gives people instructions that seem strange, illogical, and even unreasonable by human standards. Yet every breakthrough, every miracle, and every act of divine vindication was unlocked on the other side of obedience. Many people today are waiting on God to explain before they obey, but Scripture shows us that God rarely explains first. He invites trust first. As it is written, “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord (Isaiah 55:8).
Consider Noah. God told him to build an ark when it had never rained. Imagine the ridicule, the questions, and the looks he must have endured. Yet Noah obeyed anyway, and what looked foolish to the world became salvation for generations. Abraham faced a similar test when God told him to leave everything familiar and go to a land He would show him. There was no map, no timeline, and no guarantees—only obedience. Abraham didn’t move because he understood; he moved because he trusted.
That trust was tested even further when God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, the very promise he had waited for. At the moment Abraham obeyed, God revealed He was not after Isaac—He was after Abraham’s heart. Time and again, God shows that obedience reveals who or what truly holds first place in our lives.
When Moses stood at the Red Sea with an enemy behind him, God didn’t give him a battle plan. He simply told Moses to stretch out what he already had in his hand. Sometimes God doesn’t ask us for what we don’t have; He asks us to trust Him with what we already do. The same pattern appears with Joshua. Instead of fighting Jericho, God instructed him to march. No swords, no strategies, just obedience. The walls didn’t fall because of strength; they fell because of faith.
Gideon learned this lesson when God reduced his army from thirty-two thousand to just three hundred. God wanted the victory to be unmistakable. Sometimes He removes what we lean on so we learn to lean fully on Him. Hosea experienced an even more personal test when God told him to marry a woman who would be unfaithful. This wasn’t punishment—it was prophecy, a living picture of how God loves us even when we wander.
Even in the ministry of Jesus, obedience preceded miracles. When Jesus made mud, placed it on a blind man’s eyes, and told him to wash, healing didn’t come from the mud—it came from obedience. Over and over again, Scripture reveals the same truth: what looks unreasonable to people is often strategic to God.
This pattern isn’t limited to biblical times. We’ve lived it ourselves. After Joe lost his job, God instructed Tamiko to leave a secure position with a good salary, benefits, and stability—without another job lined up, without a safety net, and without visible provision. From the outside, it looked irresponsible. People questioned it. Family worried. Friends didn’t understand. But on the inside, there was a clear instruction from God.
What we learned through that season is this: provision often doesn’t show up before obedience—it shows up after it. Just like Noah, Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, and the blind man Jesus healed, the miracle isn’t in the logic. It’s in the obedience. God still asks people today to forgive when they’ve been wronged, to stay when leaving feels easier, to speak when silence feels safer, and to trust Him when the numbers, the evidence, and the circumstances all say otherwise. What looks unreasonable in the moment often becomes the testimony later.
At times, God may even ask us to do something illogical not for our benefit, but for the benefit of others. Ezekiel was instructed to lie on his side for hundreds of days as a prophetic sign to the nation. His physical obedience became a visible message. In the same way, our obedience can speak louder than our words.
Many people today are standing at a crossroads—between obedience and a “plea bargain,” between trusting God and choosing what feels safer. Temporary relief is never worth forfeiting long-term destiny. The enemy always offers comfort without calling, relief without righteousness, and shortcuts without fruit. Obedience is never about convenience; it is about alignment.
If God is asking you to do something that doesn’t make sense right now, you may be standing at the edge of something bigger than you. Faith begins where logic ends, and obedience is the language God responds to. Take time to reflect. What is God asking you to do that you’ve been resisting? Are you waiting for an explanation when God is asking for obedience? Are you choosing comfort over calling? The breakthrough you’re praying for may be on the other side of the instruction you’re avoiding.
You may be saying, “God, I don’t understand what You’re doing right now,” but even in that uncertainty, choose to come before Him honestly. Lay down the pressure to have it all figured out and bring Him the truth of where you are. Understanding may be unclear, but surrender is still possible.
God, I don’t understand what You’re doing right now, but I still choose You. I don’t see the full picture, and I don’t know how this will work out, yet I lay my need for answers at Your feet. My heart is tired of trying to figure You out, and my soul is learning that trust does not require clarity—it requires surrender.
There are moments when fear is louder than faith, when the silence feels heavier than the promise, and when obedience feels costly. But even here, I believe You are good. Even here, I believe You are faithful. Teach me to follow You when the path isn’t clear, to say yes when my mind is full of questions, and to rest when my instinct is to control.
God, help me obey without evidence and trust without timelines. Strip away my need to understand before I move, and replace it with a deeper confidence in who You are. I don’t want partial obedience or delayed faith—I want a heart that says, “Not my will, but Yours,” even when it hurts, even when it costs, even when I’m afraid.
I choose You over comfort. I choose faith over fear. I choose obedience over explanation. I may not know the outcome, but I know the One who holds it. So I place my yes on the altar, believing that what feels unreasonable to me is purposeful to You.
I trust You, God—right here, right now, without all the answers. Amen.


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