Searching for a sign.

For the last six weeks, I’ve been asking God for a sign.

A sign He hears me.

A sign He’s with me.

A sign He’s near.

A fun thing to note is that I was coming off one of the worst seasons of my life. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m fully out of that season - honestly, I’m probably only just now seeing the light.

And yet, I was searching for something. Anything. A sign of life was all I needed to bolster my spirit.

At first, it was out of desperation. I needed to know that I wasn’t alone.

If you’ve ever asked the Lord for a sign, you probably think you want to see something, but don’t actually expect to see anything. Or maybe you are expecting the sign to be one way, the way you’ve built it up to be in your mind, and when you don’t see what you’re looking for, you feel abandoned.

I’m honest enough with myself to admit that I fall into both camps.

I both don’t expect to hear from God, but also expect to hear him in exactly the way that I suspect.

How twisted is that?

Instead of God providing direct provision the way I expected, here is how He showed me signs of love instead:

In the sign on the trail that says “GOD LOVES YOU.”

The dusty writing on the back of a delivery truck that reads “Jesus Saves”

The girl behind the cash register of my favorite carry-out joint wishing me a blessed day.

Spotting a hoodie in a crowded self-checkout line that says “Jesus loves you + sees you.”

Meeting the eyes of a stranger on a walk and both of us exchanging a true, crinkle-eyed smile.

Sunshine and warmth in February so I could get out of my apartment and walk out my fears.

A chalk drawing on the side walk that catches me in my tracks and gives me a smile and a moment of joy.

When I look back on it all, it’s pretty obvious that God was wrapping me in his love. Literally telling me multiple times that He loves me.

Maybe the signs I recieved weren’t what I was looking for, but isn’t it possible that they’re exactly the signs I needed to see?

I’m learning a lot right now, while I’m sitting in my own fear and my own anxiety, that being afraid doesn’t mean that God is far. Even if I don’t hear from God in that moment, it doesn’t mean He’s abandoned me.

Maybe He’s just sleeping in the boat, riding the storm out with me. Maybe He has plans for me that I can’t yet see.

Maybe there’s nothing wrong with ME that is keeping God away, but maybe my circumstances are simply blinding me to the goodness that He’s working on my behalf while I’m in the in-between.

It’s time to remember to count the fruit. To take notice and take tally of the lovely things that God is doing in my life, in our lives, even when it might feel like we’re alone.

Join me in taking stock, would you?