America at 250: Did I Miss God?
Did I Miss God?
It's not the kind of question most Christians ask out loud.
Not because they've never thought it. Because they have.
It usually isn't the question of someone running from God. More often, it's the quiet ache of someone who has spent weeks, months, or even years trying to faithfully follow Him.
You prayed. You sought wise counsel. You searched the Scriptures. You asked trusted friends to pray with you. You took the step you genuinely believed God was leading you to take.
Then life became more confusing instead of more clear.
The opportunity disappeared. The relationship became more difficult. The diagnosis didn't change. The dream you've carried for years suddenly feels farther away than ever.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, the question you hoped you'd never have to ask refuses to go away.
Did I miss God?
When Obedience Doesn't Make Sense
Maybe the more surprising question is this:
Where did we learn that obedience should always make the path easier to understand?
It's an assumption many of us carry without ever realizing it. Somewhere along the way, we begin expecting that faithful obedience should produce increasingly predictable outcomes. We assume that if we're genuinely following God, the next step should become clearer, the obstacles fewer, and the destination more certain.
But is that actually the pattern we find in Scripture?
As we've continued our 250 series at LEV Church, we've been using America's history as a case study—not because our goal is to become historians, but because history often exposes timeless truths about the human heart. Long before there was an America, there was a small group of believers wrestling with many of the same questions sincere followers of Jesus still wrestle with today.
Their story didn't begin with the Mayflower.
It began with a conviction.
They became convinced that God's Word—not kings, religious institutions, or human traditions—must remain the final authority over their lives. That conviction eventually cost them their homes, their security, and their homeland. Yet after years of persecution, they finally found refuge in Holland, where they experienced something they had long prayed for: the freedom to worship God without fear.
From the outside, it looked as though they had finally arrived.
But appearances can be deceiving.
William Bradford, one of the Pilgrims' leaders, later recorded their remarkable journey in Of Plymouth Plantation. Looking back on their years in Holland, he reflected that many of their children were slowly being drawn into the culture around them. The generation that had sacrificed so much to preserve its faith was now watching the next generation drift from it.
History has a way of exposing uncomfortable truths.
One generation can sacrifice to preserve the faith, but unless the next generation embraces Christ for itself, even the greatest sacrifices can become little more than stories about a faith that once was.
That realization became one of the reasons these believers began considering another journey—not because they believed another place would be easier, but because they wanted to faithfully steward what God had entrusted to them for those who would come after them.
When the Destination Changes
After years of prayer.
After careful consideration.
After wise counsel.
They became convinced God was leading them across the Atlantic.
Then everything began to unravel.
Their companion ship leaked.
Families were separated.
Storms battered the Mayflower.
The ship itself suffered structural damage.
Then, after more than two months at sea, they finally saw land.
Only it wasn't where they intended to be.
They had done everything they knew to do.
And they still arrived somewhere they never expected.
Isn't that often where the real questions begin?
Not when we're rebelling against God.
When we're sincerely trying to follow Him.
Maybe that's why the Pilgrims' story continues to speak across four centuries. Their greatest struggle wasn't simply surviving the Atlantic. It was learning to trust God when obedience didn't produce the outcome they expected.
Perhaps ours is the same.
Because if we're honest, it isn't difficult to place faith in God when our expectations and our circumstances agree with one another.
The real test comes when they don't.
What if we've confused faith in God with faith in our expectations?
What if we've slowly begun trusting the destination more than the One leading us?
Jesus concluded the Sermon on the Mount by reminding His listeners that the storm wasn't what separated the wise man from the foolish man. Both experienced wind. Both experienced rain. Both experienced floods.
The storm wasn't the difference.
The foundation was.
Perhaps that's why this part of the Pilgrims' story still matters. It reminds us that faith isn't proven when life unfolds exactly as we hoped.
Faith is revealed when the destination changes—but the foundation beneath our feet remains the same.
And maybe that's the question worth carrying with us this week.
Not simply...
Did I miss God?
But...
What is my faith really resting on?