Max Lucado's Daughter Asks Him to Sell Snow-Cones

When my oldest daughter was about six years old, she and I were having a discussion about my work. It seems she wasn't too happy with my chosen profession. She wanted me to leave the ministry. "I like you as a preacher," she explained, "I just really wish you sold snow cones."
An honest request from a pure heart. It made sense to her that the happiest people in the world were the men who drove the snow-cone trucks. You play music. You sell goodies. You make kids happy. What more could you want? (Come to think of it, she may have had a point. I could get a loan, buy a truck, and … hah, I'd eat too much.)
I heard her request but didn't heed it. Why? Because I knew better. I know what I'm called to do and what I need to do. The fact is, I knew more about life than she did. Same with God.
God hears our requests. But his answer is not always what we'd like it to be. Why? Because God knows more about life than we do.

Max Lucado, Max on Life (Thomas Nelson, 2010), p. 42