You can never be too good at trusting God, a muscle can never be too strong. Daniel was good at it, but God wanted him to be better. The two of them were close, which made Daniel the sort of strong that fascinates other people, that makes you an advisor to kings. But it was also the sort of strong that shakes the devil, and makes envious people do absurd things. That’s why a plan was made to decimate Daniel by getting him to deduce that God was the kind to lead him into trouble. There was hope that Daniel would die, because Daniel would never deny God, but there was greater hope that he would die doubtful, that disappointment would follow Daniel into his dying moments, where he would encounter death disgruntled and afraid.
There is no mention of how Daniel felt about it all. There is no room made for it. There is only what Daniel did, and what that said. Daniel continued to pray to God three times a day, where he could be seen despite the decree that he would be put to death for it. His carrying on as normal was an indication of what he believed, which would’ve bled into how he felt, however long it took. What Daniel believed about God is what he had always believed about him. There is no talk of Daniel being dismayed, only because there is no talk of it in his actions. And what he did spoke for him, because what he did counted.
When God saved Daniel, he took his token of trust, and fed it into the bigger picture of his rescue: an unfathomably large, intricate image that Daniel couldn’t have configured himself, because it included far more than Daniel. When you decide to stay in routine, even when everything outside of it is melting, it tells God what you think of him, what he is able to do for you and through you, and how far the two of you are able to go. Therefore, there is nothing understated about carrying on when your heart is broken. You can never be too good at it. It would be good if muscles grew beefy just because, but that isn’t the world.