Lisa O
Some people wait for miracles, thinking that’s where God shows up. But he’s just as present in the small, unremarkable parts of life—the ones we usually overlook. The quiet morning light, a stranger’s kindness, a moment of calm between chaos. It’s not always thunder and revelation. Sometimes, it’s something simple, something steady, something that reminds you he’s never been far at all.
You See Him in the Stillness
Those first few minutes after waking up feel different. The house is quiet, the coffee maker hums softly, and light spills across the wall. Nothing’s asked of you yet. If you sit still long enough, something peaceful starts to fill the space—something that feels bigger than you. It’s not silence, not exactly. More like presence. Like he’s there, waiting in the calm before the noise starts.
You Hear Him in Laughter
It’s not the deep kind of laughter that comes with meaning. It’s the sudden kind that catches you off guard—the one that makes you bend over and wipe your eyes. For a few seconds, everything seems to lift. The sound fills the air and reminds you that there’s still goodness left in the world. Maybe that’s how he shows up sometimes—through the sound of joy that refuses to disappear.
You Feel Him When You’re Kind for No Reason
You don’t plan it. Someone drops something, and your hand moves before you think. Or you pause to listen when you could’ve walked away. It doesn’t feel like doing good—it just feels natural. Later, when the moment’s over, there’s this quiet ease that lingers. You can’t name it, but it sits right. Maybe it’s Him showing up in the small things that never need to be noticed.
You Notice Him in the Sky
Some days it’s a sunset that looks like fire—other days, just a clear blue stretch that feels too perfect to be random. You look up, and for a second, the noise inside you quiets down. The sky doesn’t answer questions or fix problems. But it reminds you of scale—how small we are, yet somehow known. Perhaps that’s why we look up when we need peace.
You See Him in Children
Kids don’t try to be impressive. They laugh at silly things, forgive easily, and ask the kind of questions adults forgot how to ask. There’s something pure in that—an unfiltered way of being. Watching a child play or cry reminds you of how close we all start to God before life complicates everything. Maybe that innocence is what we spend adulthood trying to find again.
You Feel Him in Music
A song plays, and suddenly you’re back in a memory you didn’t expect to revisit. Sometimes it’s a hymn, just a melody that feels bigger than sound. Music moves in places words can’t reach. Maybe that’s why it’s one of His favorite ways to meet people—quietly, through rhythm and echo, slipping past logic straight into the heart.
You See Him in Forgiveness
It’s not easy, and it never feels clean. You forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it, or you’re forgiven when you least expect it. The air changes afterward. It’s not about pretending nothing happened; it’s about releasing something that’s been eating you from the inside. That relief—that breath after holding it too long—feels divine in ways you can’t put into words.
You Find Him at Work
Even in the ordinary kind—the typing, cleaning, errands, calls. It’s not about being spiritual at every task, but about showing up with care and attention. When you do something well just because it’s worth doing right, you feel a strange peace. God doesn’t always appear in churches. Sometimes he’s right there in your daily rhythm, watching how you treat what seems small.
You Sense Him in Pain
It’s the hardest place to look for Him, but pain has a strange way of clearing out illusions. You start praying differently—not asking for comfort, just for presence. You stop trying to understand and start trying to endure. Somewhere in that raw space, he shows up. Not to take it away, but to make sure you’re not alone in it.
You See Him in the Ordinary Faces
The cashier who remembers your order, the neighbor who waves every morning, the friend who checks in without needing a reason. There’s a quiet grace in people who make life easier for others. They don’t preach; they show up. Maybe that’s one of God’s favorite disguises—ordinary people doing small, consistent things that keep the world kind.
You Feel Him When You Let Go
Sometimes things fall apart, and you’re too tired to fight. You don’t plan it; you stop trying. The noise in your head fades, and what’s left is quiet. Not joy, not even relief—just space. After a while, that space feels lighter. Maybe that’s Him, not fixing anything, just helping you breathe again.
You See Him in the Quiet Acts of Love
It’s the neighbor who waves every morning. The friend who stays until you stop crying. Nobody calls it kindness, but it is. You don’t thank them enough because you don’t know how. Later, when it’s quiet, you think about how those moments save you in small ways. That’s what His love feels like—ordinary but steady.
You Notice Him in Nature’s Patterns
The world keeps repeating itself: the same street, the same sunlight, the same rain on the windows. You get tired of it sometimes, then one day you notice how much peace lives in that sameness. The trees don’t rush. The earth keeps going. Maybe he built it that way so we’d learn to slow down, too. Perhaps it’s constant.
You See Him When You’re Grateful
It sneaks up on you sometimes—midway through dinner, or when you realize the day turned out fine after all. You pause, and everything feels clearer. Gratitude doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges. It makes you see how much is already right. In that quiet awareness, you can almost feel Him nearby—not distant or unreachable, just present, sitting quietly in the middle of your ordinary day.
You Feel Him in Survival
Do you remember the week you thought would break you? It didn’t. You showed up anyway. The meals still happened, the mornings still came. You don’t call it faith at the time, but that’s what it is—still moving when you don’t know how. Looking back, it feels like he was there the whole time, holding the parts you couldn’t.