Maybe when you stop thinking about it...

010: And other reverse psychology sermons I'm tired of!

Dear Diary,

This is just a rant. But I’ve been thinking about something I hear a lot. You probably have too.

You know that thing people say, how “God shows up when you stop thinking about it”? I used to believe that, too. I heard it so many times on pulpits, sometimes subtly, sometimes directly. And I get it. The intention is often to encourage surrender, patience, and trust. But over time, I started to question the core of that statement.

I’d read long Instagram captions or hear testimonies about how God brought someone a job, a husband, a child, something they’d deeply wanted… right after they "let it go" or "stopped thinking about it." And every time, I’d think, Oof! Why do we make it sound like asking or desiring is somehow a weakness?

Sis, it’s okay to say God gave me what I asked for.

We won’t shame you. We won’t roll our eyes. You don’t need to downplay it by pretending you didn’t want it anymore. Maybe you were still thinking about it. That’s okay too.

But can we stop presenting not desiring it as the gold standard for receiving from God?

The Bible doesn’t even support that mindset. Hebrews says that without faith, it’s impossible to please God. And He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. Jesus literally said: Ask, seek, knock. Over and over again.

Of course there’s no earthly reward that beats the ultimate reward of spending eternity with God and getting to know him more, but still, God gives good gifts doesn’t he?

Also, why would the bible say, Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart if you were supposed to forget about your ‘desires’ in the first place?

Let’s be honest: if you’re single in your late twenties, thirties, or forties, this thought creeps in, even when you don’t want it to. Even when you’ve prayed about it. Even when you’re thriving, crushing goals, living your dream life. It might not be at the center of your life (and honestly, it shouldn’t be), but it’s still there. And half the time, it’s not even because of you. It’s from the people around you, constantly asking when he is coming, as if you’re the one withholding him. It’s from the vulnerable days when you wish there was someone that you could bare your soul to, someone you’re just safe to be around with.

That kind of advice “don’t think about it and then God will show up” might work for a 19- or 20-year-old who’s just figuring life out. At that stage, sure, priorities look different. If I had a 19-year-old niece or mentee fixated on marriage, I’d challenge her to aim higher with her time and purpose as she seeks God.

But telling a woman in her late twenties, thirties, or forties, someone who has grown, who’s working, building, becoming to pretend that her desires don’t exist? And then spiritualizing it with, “That’s when God will do it”? That’s not only unfair, it’s hypocritical.

That advice isn’t even biblical. It’s reverse psychology, dressed in well-meaning, spiritual-sounding language. A neat trick to appear detached, when in reality, many of us do desire things and still believe in God’s power to provide.

Here’s the truth: God doesn’t reward the one who stops caring. God responds to faith.
And often, it’s the ones who dared to keep asking, like the persistent widow in Luke 18, who received what they longed for.

So yes, trust God. Surrender control. But don’t confuse detachment with faith. Don’t let anyone guilt you for still hoping.

Blind Bartimaeus, the Woman with the Issue of Blood, and the Canaanite Woman

They all had one thing in common: they didn’t stop asking. They didn’t say, “Well, I’ll just stop thinking about it and maybe God will show up.” Nope. They cried out. Pushed through crowds. Begged. Persisted. Even when it was uncomfortable. Even when it was embarrassing. Even when it was met with silence.

Blind Bartimaeus kept shouting until Jesus stopped.

The woman with the issue of blood fought her way through a crowd she had no business being in, just to touch the hem of His garment.

The Canaanite woman didn’t walk away after Jesus didn’t answer her a word. She stayed. She argued. She showed up with the kind of faith that impressed even Jesus.

You think they would’ve gotten their miracle by just chilling and “not thinking about it”? Come on now.

And to the folks who say things like, “Maybe God is working something in you” or “training you”…

Uh — isn’t He working on all of us?

Let’s be real. Haven’t you met people with terrible behaviour who still got married at 20 or 21? Just to be clear, I’m soo glad I didn’t even marry in my 20s because I was still a people-pleasing, clueless person who was confused about many things. So God forbid I suffered unnecessarily by putting my baggage on another human being and expecting them to be superman.

Before I digress, I know someone who tied the knot in her twenties and was notorious for being temperamental, like, legendary temper. She’s still married. And guess what? That temper didn’t disappear.

So let’s please stop making single women feel like marriage is a reward for good behavior. That if you were more healed, more whole, or just “kinder,” maybe then God would bless you with a man. It’s a wacky theology that has no biblical grounding, and it keeps women trapped in shame cycles they were never meant to carry.

Now, let me be clear:
I’m not saying self-work is irrelevant. If you’ve read my previous posts, you know I’m a huge advocate for growth. Emotionally, spiritually and mentally. I’m Team “Do the Work.” Because even if you're looking for someone who loves you as you are, raw material is still raw material. Love yourself enough to become better. For you and for the people you love.

But don’t confuse growth with performance.

Don’t turn your spiritual development into a formula for getting what you want. God isn’t a vending machine, and faith isn’t currency for controlling Him.

What we need is honesty. Vulnerability. Less performance, more presence.

I honestly believe the more honest we are in the Body of Christ, the freer we’ll become and the more people will be drawn to Jesus, not our curated Christian performance.

We don’t have all the answers about why things happen when they do. But we trust the One who does. And that means it’s okay to admit you’ve been praying for it. It’s okay to admit you still want it.

I still ask my dad for money. No shame in my game. I’m in my thirties. I’m grown. I’m independent. But he’s my father. Not yours. He doesn’t complain when I ask, so why should I be ashamed? If you want to feel bad on my behalf, go ahead. If it makes you sleep better at night to think you’re better than me, sweet dreams.

That’s the same mindset we need to have with God our heavenly father. We need to stop pretending. Stop shrinking our desires into silence, just so we can appear “spiritual.” You can seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and still carry real desires, real needs, real prayers in your heart.

Faith and desire are not mutually exclusive. What we lack is balance. That’s how spiritually healthy Christians are formed. And that’s what I hope we continue to grow into. A people who don’t just pretend to have it all together, but who bring their whole selves, desires, doubts, faith, and questions to a God who already knows and welcomes it all.

If you enjoyed this, you’ll definitely enjoy reading Moyo’s Diary, coming out on July 31.