I know that we are all different, and the ways that God speaks to me are probably different than the way that he speaks to you.
But I encourage you to be alert to the ways he is at work in the world.
For example, one of my friends sees the sunset and remembers the things of the Lord. My house is at an angle where we don't see the sunset, and I am almost never out and about at that time, but I like that the sunset, a daily recurrence, has meaning for her.
For me, I see God at work in the chance occurrences that have personal meaning. (Not that they are really chance, of course.)
One example: When we moved to unimproved land, we were living in a construction trailer. It was so small, there was no way to keep all our books out.
One son asked one day for Greek Myths. It was in storage, in some box amid 30 or 40 other boxes. I faced the mountain of stuff without any confidence of success. These boxes weren't all even labeled correctly. How could I find the one book that was missing?
I think I poked around for a bit, without success, and as I was about to leave, defeated, I glanced up, and there was the box that I knew had the book.
It was like the palpable presence of God fell on me at that moment, and I sat sobbing, because God cared about me, in my constrained space, and about my son's wish to read pagan tales of false gods (of all things).
I was known. My son was known.
It still brings me to tears.
And maybe it doesn't sound very dramatic in retelling (I found a book I was looking for!), but it was meaningful to me.
On another occasion, I was at Disneyland. On the last ride of the day, I heard my name called very quietly--and there, sitting behind me in Star Tours, were some of my dearest family friends that I knew from another state. Their family had been dealing with hard things lately, and to see them, so unexpectedly . . . what a gift.
In the scheme of life, and in the face of deep hard times, a five minute unexpected meet-up for greetings and hugs and a bit of tears . . . this is hardly anything. A wisp.
And yet, in that moment, for me, it felt like the gratuitous gift of God, that among the 44,000 people who were at Disney that day, and despite all the wrong turns and child swapping that had to happen for me to be on that ride at that specific minute, I got to see my friends.
This is my testimony that God gives good gifts to his children.
My prayer for you is that you will be on the watch for his handiwork, and that you will recognize it when you see it, whether in sunsets, or chance events, or however God speaks to you.
John and Sarita's oldest daughter
Homeschooling mom to five