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The tiny box we overlook
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 (NIV)1 Today, I spent hours trying to do something that should have been simple. I was working on my employers website, trying to make a list of pulled data from a specific section of a database from another application. The solution, according to every blog, AI, and video I searched, said it was easy. Just click from the list box and choose from the drop-down. But I couldn’t find the box. I looked everywhere. I clicked everywhere in the Web Designer software. I was almost at the point of just doing coding. Even stepped away a few times to clear my head so I wouldn’t use language I shouldn’t. I knew I was making something so simple feel impossible. And then, I found it. A tiny icon, no bigger than a centimeter, that had been there the whole time. One click, and everything started falling into place. It hit me how often in life and in our faith do we do the same thing? We search and strive. We stress and overthink. We look everywhere except at what’s right in front of us. We ask God for answers but don’t slow down enough to see the small signs He has placed in our path. Sometimes the breakthrough isn’t about knowing more, but about seeing more clearly. About quieting our minds long enough to notice the still, small voice. (1 Kings 19:12). That tiny box reminded me that God doesn’t always shout in the obvious places. He often whispers in the quiet corners of our lives, in the spaces we overlook when we’re moving too fast to notice. Sometimes, the answer we desperately need isn’t in a loud voice or flashing road sign. It’s in a gentle nudge, a still small moment, or something so subtle we almost miss it. God’s guidance is not always loud, but it is always present. He might speak through an unexpected conversation with a friend, a line in a song we weren’t even really listening to, or a verse of Scripture that suddenly feels like it was written just for us. And often, it’s only after we’ve worn ourselves out searching that we’re still enough to finally hear Him. What felt like wasted time today wasn’t wasted at all. Every moment of struggle chipped away at my pride, my self-reliance, and my hurry. It softened me and humbled me. Reminding me that sometimes the journey is the lesson. That in my frustration, God is not far away. He’s teaching me to slow down, to pay attention, to depend on Him more than my own understanding. Clarity comes to those who are willing to keep seeking, even when they’re tired or frustrated. God honors the heart that doesn’t give up. The heart that says, Lord, I trust that You are here, even when I don’t see it yet. And when that clarity finally comes after what seems like forever and we see the “tiny box” we overlooked, it moves us and possibly humbles us. Because we know we didn’t get there on our own. It was grace that opened our eyes. So now, every time I see that tiny little icon on the page, I’ll remember this, sometimes the biggest breakthroughs come in the smallest, quietest places. And God is always there patiently waiting for me to see. Reflection:Is there something in your life that feels frustratingly unclear right now? A situation where you’ve searched everywhere for answers? Maybe, just maybe, the answer is already in front of you quiet, small, and waiting for you to pause long enough to see it. New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
When You’re Not in the Room—But God Still Sees You
“Those who look to Him are radiant with joy; their faces will never be ashamed.” — Psalm 34:5 (HCSB) This morning when I woke up I was thinking about something that happened this past week. It wasn’t anything major, but it left me with emotions and feelings I didn’t expect. You would think at my age that I’ve grown past certain things. I tell myself that certain situations just don’t bother me anymore. But this last week, I was reminded that, even as we grow, there are moments when old feelings can resurface. This last week, there was a delay in communication about something important. I wasn’t informed until hours after it had happened. There was no malice behind it, but I still found myself feeling left out, wondering why I wasn’t included sooner. At first, I brushed it off, It’s not a big deal, I told myself. Things like this happen. But as the days went on, I realized I wasn’t just frustrated about the delay itself. I had made it all about me. Ouch 🙁(lol, I know no one else does this only me.) Instead of focusing on the situation, I found myself thinking, Why wasn’t I told sooner? Was I not important enough to be included? I let the issue become more about my feelings and emotions rather than what had actually happened again ouch. 🙁 Early this morning I was reading Psalm 34 and God used it to gently redirect my heart. Don’t you love how God does that. He lets us pout and make it all about us, then he guides us back to reality and himself. David wrote this Psalm during a time of fear and uncertainty. He was fleeing for his life, pretending to be mad to save himself. His situation was a million times worse than mine, for sure. But in the middle of it all, David made a choice to praise God he said, “I will praise the Lord at all times; His praise will always be on my lips.” (v.1) David’s praise wasn’t based on his circumstances. It wasn’t dependent on how things were going or how others treated him. It was about focusing on God’s faithfulness, even when everything around him seemed uncertain. Then as I continued to read the chapter in verse 5 it says, “Those who look to Him are radiant with joy; their faces will never be ashamed.” That’s when the situation came to the surface and I realized that I had been focused on how I felt, my emotions rather than on God’s presence. Instead of focusing on the situation or how others might have been acting, I needed to shift my gaze to Him. When I do that, my heart can find peace and joy, even when circumstances aren’t what I expect. But I wanted to dig deeper and find out what does it really mean to be “radiant with joy”? To be radiant means more than just having a smile on our face, it speaks of an inner transformation. It’s a joy that shines through, not because everything is perfect, but because the light of God’s love is shining in us. It’s the kind of joy that transcends our circumstances, one that comes from knowing God’s presence is near and that He is good, no matter what happens around us. It’s a joy that lifts our spirits and makes us glow from the inside out, not because we have everything figured out, or understand it’s not all about us, but because we know we are loved, seen, and held by the Creator of the universe. When we “look to Him,” we become vessels of that joy. Our faces become radiant because we reflect His light. This isn’t about pretending everything is fine when it’s not—it’s about recognizing that joy doesn’t come from our circumstances, but from knowing the One who holds everything in His hands. Psalm 34 also says: “The Lord is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit.” (v.18) Even in our moments of disappointment, God is near. He sees us—not just when things are falling apart, but even when our thoughts start to spiral or our emotions feel bigger than the situation. His nearness is a steady anchor when our hearts feel shaken. And here’s what that nearness should do: it should lift our eyes off ourselves and turn them toward Him. Because if I stay stuck in my own feelings, I’ll keep replaying what went wrong or how I wish it had been different. But when I look to God, like Psalm 34 calls me to, it reminds me that the goal isn’t to defend my emotions or demand my own way—it’s to reflect Him. It’s to respond with grace, trust, and a heart that praises Him at all times (v.1). It’s not about me being seen—it’s about seeing God. And when I truly see Him, everything else shifts into perspective. So instead of staying inward, Psalm 34 invites us to look upward—to see God’s faithfulness, His presence, His goodness. When our eyes are on Him, our hearts can rest, our minds can quiet, and our faces shine—not because we got what we wanted, but because we saw the One who is always enough.
Learning to Slow Down – Discernment
“The rich man is wise in his own eyes, but the poor who has understanding sees through him.” — Proverbs 28:11 (ESV) “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” — James 1:5 (NIV) This morning, I was reading Proverbs 28:11, and it made me pause. It says, “The rich man is wise in his own eyes, but the poor who has understanding sees through him.” It made me think—how many times have I been so sure I saw a situation clearly, only to realize later that I missed something important or saw the whole situation wrong. There have been times I have made decisions in the moment, based on what I thought was right. I’ve spoken too soon, assumed too much, and trusted my own thoughts more than I should’ve. As I look back many times, I can see those were moments when I didn’t ask God or let the Holy Spirit lead me to wisdom—I just went with what felt right at the time. And honestly, those choices didn’t lead to peace. Most of the time, they just brought confusion, regret, or hurt either for me or to someone else. Acting on impulse might feel right in the moment, but without God’s guidance, it rarely leads to anything good. But in James 1:5 it reminded me of something better. It says that when I lack wisdom (which, honestly, is more often than I’d like to admit) lol 🙂, all I have to do is ask God and He’ll give it. This kind of generosity and kindness amazes me. Discernment isn’t about being right, it’s about being willing to wait and listen. It’s about admitting, “Maybe I don’t know the whole story.” This isn’t a weakness. This is wisdom. And I’m learning that the Holy Spirit is always ready to guide me, if I’ll take the time to invite Him in. These days, I’m trying to be slower to speak, slower to judge, and quicker to pray. I want to see situations and people through God’s eyes, not just my own. Because He sees what I can’t, and He knows what’s really going on beneath the surface.
Hands Still, Heart Full
Do you ever have one of those days where all you want to do is run away, and depression and anxiety have their ugly grips on you, and you feel worn down, off balance, and like you’re barely holding it together? That was me yesterday. And honestly, there wasn’t even a clear reason. Nothing specific set it off, it was just a lot of little things, slowly building up. Emotions I couldn’t quite name. A heaviness I couldn’t explain. That feeling of being out of sync, like the world is moving around you and you’re just… stuck. Usually when I feel this way, I break away into one of my crafts, something with my hands. Painting, designing, writing, building, creating, anything to help me breathe again. It’s how I process. It’s how I come back to myself. Maybe that’s why I have so many different kinds of crafts; because on the days when I feel like I’m falling apart, making something reminds me that I’m still here. Still whole, somewhere beneath the weight. But yesterday, I couldn’t even do that. Life didn’t give me the space. Work had to be done. Responsibilities kept pulling. And the one thing that usually helps me cope….. wasn’t an option. And that made it even harder. So I carried the weight with me most of the day; quietly, tired and overwhelmed. And somewhere in the middle of it all, I just stopped. I breathed. And I surrendered it to God, not in some big, dramatic way, but in a soft, tired whisper: “God, I can’t carry this. Please take it.” That shift didn’t fix everything. The heaviness didn’t magically disappear. But something inside me softened. My perspective began to change. The pressure didn’t vanish, but I didn’t feel crushed by it anymore. It was like I remembered I wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He’s present. Not just in worship songs or Scripture reading. But in the middle of long workdays, aching hearts, and the moments when we don’t have the space to do what normally helps us breathe. Even when I couldn’t create, He was still creating space for me to be seen, known and held. So if you’ve had one of those days, where your soul feels like it’s barely stitched together know that you’re not alone. And maybe, just maybe, the simple act of showing up on a day like that is holy, too. Maybe it’s your quiet way of saying, “God, I’m still here. Please hold me together.” And I believe He does.
Quiet Doesn’t Mean It Didn’t Affect Me
“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”— Romans 12:21 (NIV) Earlier today, I had to deal with a frustrating situation at the post office. A very expensive item of mine was lost, and when I went in to ask about it, the postmaster was very rude, hateful, and was very dismissive. I didn’t say anything harsh I stayed quiet, left, and went out to my car. But even though I didn’t say much, it still bothered me and truthfully, I wanted to cry. It stuck with me for a few hours afterward. I kept thinking about how it made me feel, and honestly, I didn’t like that I let it bother me so much. What keep coming to me aftewards more than what happened with the postmaster was the reminder that careless words can leave a lasting mark. And that made me stop and think have I ever made someone else feel the way I felt today? Even unintentionally? The truth is, I have. Romans 12:21 says, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” It’s a reminder that we don’t need to respond to rudeness with rudeness. But it’s also a call to examine our own behavior too—to make sure we’re not spreading that same attitude to someone else, even on a stressful day. I may not have said much today, but that moment still taught me something. It reminded me to be more aware of how I speak, how I treat people, and how even a small exchange can carry more weight than I realize.
I said it was the last time
Verse:“I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate.”—Romans 7:15 (NLT) I have lost count of how many times I’ve said, “This is the last time.” I have my own personal struggles, the things I battle with daily. Maybe you do too, may you have said, “this is the last time too” You may struggle with to many drinks. A cigarette. A moment of anger that spiraled too far. A word spoken too sharply, or a thought you know doesn’t belong. Maybe it’s something you looked at when no one was watching, or a silence that felt easier than speaking truth. Like me I am sure you have meant it when you have said this is the last time. You meant it when you told God, “I’m not going back.” But then… you did.Sometimes just hours later. And the moment it happens, the weight crashes in. Shame. Guilt. Regret.That sinking feeling creeps in—that maybe, just maybe, I’ll never really change. And suddenly, all I want to do is run—not to God, but away from Him. I shut down. I isolate. Depression starts to creep in like a shadow. Anxiety wraps around my chest and squeezes tight. The weight of my failure feels unbearable. And I can’t help but think: I’ve let others down including myself and God. It’s in those moments, the darkest ones, that a deeper thought comes to my mind.Does God still want me? Is He tired of forgiving me for the same thing? Have I gone too far this time? Others may turn us away. But here’s the truth I’m learning and keep learning everyday: God doesn’t turn His back when we fall. He doesn’t throw up His hands in frustration or walk away.Instead, He whispers, “I’m still here.” Not to shame us, but to rescue us.Not to condemn us, but to remind us that grace is still there. Even the apostle Paul knew this struggle. “I do what I hate,” he said. Those words hit close to home. They remind us this isn’t new. Even someone like Paul so bold, so faithful wrestled with the war inside. See Paul didn’t leave us in despair. He pointed us to hope:“Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24–25) You see, I’m not writing this because I have figured it all out, because we all know that isn’t true. I’m writing this because I’m in the trenches, too. Still failing and stumbling and still learning to run to God instead of away.Still learning that grace is more than enough even for me. We are not alone! We are not beyond help!And no, God is not disappointed in us. He’s not giving up on us.He is inviting us back, every single time. Mercy is still ours, forgiveness is real and Jesus is our rescue.