God calls to Abraham both before and after the test of tests involving his son Isaac. Each time, Abraham replies, “Here I am.”

God calls to Jacob in a dream to transfer Abraham’s blessing onto him. Jacob replies, “Here I am.”

God calls to Moses from a burning bush to tell him to lead a nation out of slavery. Moses replies, “Here I am.”

God calls to Samuel as a young boy to deliver the first of many prophetic messages. Samuel replies, “Here I am.”

God calls to Isaiah seeking a messenger to stand in the gap of a wayward nation. Isaiah replies, “Here I am.”

I don’t know about you, but I want to lead a significant and consequential life. I want to dare mighty things. It keeps me up at night and drives me on in the daytime. Normal isn’t good enough. Easy isn’t adventurous enough. Good isn’t satisfying enough. There’s only one scale that’s big enough to live on – and that’s God’s. All others pale in comparison.

The only problem is, I can’t write my own script.

In almost every story in the Bible, it was God who instigated, orchestrated and demonstrated His power and faithfulness in incredible ways. So how do we “coax” God to let us in on the action?

I’ve come to learn we can’t preempt a calling, a word or a miracle from God because at the end of the day, it’s “thy will” not “my will” be done. But we can be available. And there are some really good reasons to be. Turns out, I’m not the only one saying, “Here I am.”

In Isaiah 65, God laments through Isaiah the prophet, “I was ready to respond, but no one asked for help. I was ready to be found, but no one was looking for me. I said, ‘Here I am, here I am!’ to a nation that did not call my name.”

Maybe I’m waiting on God when He’s actually waiting on me.

Let’s pause on that. We want God to get us to the next big thing. I know I do. I can’t stand the status quo. I want more. I want it all. But God says, “Here I am, want ME!”

In a world where instant gratification is a realistic expectation, turns out fast is slow and slow is fast. We spin our wheels trying to get to the next destination, physically and spiritually, before we realize that we’re back where we started. And all along God has been saying, “Here I am.” What’s our response?

I still want more. That probably won’t change. But I realize I don’t need to wait. I’m not always sure what God is saying to me or when the next move will come. But that doesn’t stop me from being part of the spiritual conversation. Like the “places” marker on social media, I want my profile to stand out when God looks my way. Here I am.

Here I am means I surrender.

Here I am means I’m available.

Here I am means I’m all in.

Here I am means that regardless of circumstances, I want a relationship with God.

And like icing on the cake, when Jesus shows up, it really gets personal. Check out Revelations 3:20, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in…”

God is calling my name. Am I calling His?

In an audience of several hundred, I’m sure “that person” could be almost anyone.

It reminded me of a day earlier that week when I had come home from a long day at work with no agenda for the evening. I recently moved to the coast in Florida so I made a quick run to the beach before coming home for dinner. With more time to kill, I started thinking of more options.

“I could really go for a beer,” I thought. “I know, I’ll have a beer on the back porch. With Jesus. You know, quasi-prayer, shoot the breeze style beer with Jesus. That’s normal, right?”

It was awkward. And kind of pathetic. And it didn’t last very long.

I read a story once of a lonely single girl who finally decided to date Jesus. She got dressed up and went to a fancy restaurant by herself. I can’t remember how it went. I don’t think I finished the story.

Can I just state the obvious?

Having a beer with Jesus is not the same as having a beer with a buddy.

Going on a date with Jesus isn’t the same as going on a date with a significant other.

You can’t have sex with Jesus. (wow, that really sounded weird).

You can’t cuddle Jesus the way you cuddle a newborn.

You can’t teach Jesus to throw a baseball the way you would teach a son.

It’s a bit of a head-scratcher hearing the stories of people who “find” God in the richness of their human relationships. A loner with a checkered past discovers God accepts him the way he is when he visits a church that invites him back. A new parent realizes for the first time what it means to be loved as a child of God now that they experience that love themselves.

So… where does that leave everyone else?

One of the real challenges I keep finding with faith is trying to integrate it into regular, everyday life. It’s supposed to fit, but sometimes it just seems like trying to cram a square peg into a round hole. Then what?

I know the “right” answer is that we were all created to be community for each other (at least I’ve heard that a hundred times). The better answer is probably to wait on God to provide for our needs (relational and otherwise). And the best answer might be to pursue the richness of a relationship with God that transcends circumstances. Maybe the perfect answer is that God is always enough.

But what if we gave up on needing to have an answer at all?

What if we just let things be what they are?

There’s always a space between a need and God’s provision, between a test and a testimony. We wouldn’t be honest Christians if we only told the stories of how God showed up – after the fact. “I got engaged – God is so faithful!” or “We finally got pregnant – God is so faithful!” I’d venture to say that most of us “everyday Christians” spend the majority of our lives in some kind of a gap. I know that because I’ve been there often and many of my friends are there as well. The girl whose husband never returned from the war. The couples who can’t stop miscarrying. The families who move cross-country where every face is a new one. My divorced friends. And on and on. Can someone please profile these stories from the pulpit? Can we at least acknowledge them? “Life really isn’t adding up to what I thought it would be and I sure hope there’s something more out there for me.”

It takes faith to live by faith, but I experience life moment by moment – the good ones and the bad ones alike.

It’s hard to have a beer with Jesus, but…

Don’t answer that. Don’t resolve it. Just let it be what it is for now. At least it’s honest.

Nathan Magnuson is a leadership consultant, coach, trainer, and thought leader. To learn more about his services, visit NathanMagnuson.com/consulting or follow him on Twitter.

Last month I got to write a guest post for my friend Chris Hendrix’s faith-based blog exploring just that topic. I took some reflections on faith, doubt, old prayers, and tied it in with the game of Monopoly. Let’s face it, when you pray for God’s best, it’s like drawing a Chance card in Monopoly. It could help or it could hurt. But you’ll never know unless you play.

You can read my post in its entirety here on Chris’s site.

Nathan Magnuson is a leadership consultant, coach, speaker, and thought leader. To learn more about his services, visit NathanMagnuson.com/consulting or follow him on Twitter.