My Evidence of a Loving God

I still have the small bottle in my top drawer, hidden beneath folded pairs of pants. It’s no longer displayed on our dresser as a reminder. My husband bought it amid our communication with the church elders. It’s filled to the brim with Mustard seeds. I’ll never forget the day he handed me one tiny seed and told me that our faith only needed to be “this big” for God to do a miracle in our church. 

 

He had more faith than me at that moment. Things were already increasingly confusing and murky with church leadership. However, he was determined to get to the bottom of it, and at the bottom, he was adamant that we’d find redemption for our church. 

 

Month after month came and went and things went from bad to worse. Nearly everything we had desperately prayed for had not happened. Instead of our concerns being properly addressed, we were publicly condemned, excommunicated, estranged from our family, and cut off from a life that we had been immersed in for the last ten years.

 

All those prayers prayed. For what? 

All those minutes, hours, and days, pleading with God. For what? 

 

Just when we thought we had hit rock bottom, our family was dealt another shocking blow just six weeks into my postpartum. My husband lost his job. Grieving, isolated, and unsure of the future, I was left wondering why God didn’t protect us from another heavy burden. He could have. But he didn’t. The losses seemed to tower over the wins. We just couldn’t get our heads above water.

 

For the first time in my life, I lost my ability to pray. The mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual reserves were empty. When my exhausted mind would prompt me to send up a petition I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t even know what to pray for. I had thought I did. And look where it had gotten me. The only word that came to my mind was, “Help”. And even the times that I tried to audibly say it, the word would get caught in my throat. No sound would come out.

 

Like a crying baby that has been left alone for hours, my requests for consolation were waning. What exactly was I crying out for? I didn’t even know how to be helped. And who was I calling for? Because it was becoming clear that my cries for reprieve weren’t being answered.

 

I was on the phone with my parents at one point during this time. In a moment of complete honesty, I admitted to my mom, “I can’t pray…I can’t think of any words to say”. In her, I’ve-been-there tone, she told me, “This is when you rely on others to pray for you”. She reassured me that she and my father were faithfully offering up our needs to the God we had always prayed to. I thanked her, but I also didn’t know how or if He would answer. 

 

These were dark days. I had never lived a life without prayer. I had spent my entire life being taught to pray and exercising that freedom, and then all of a sudden, I couldn’t. Two main thoughts haunted my mind. A life with no prayer meant the loss of a companion. I had spoken to someone who I thought was always there, someone who lovingly heard me, someone who cared, someone who could help, someone who could make things better. 

 

This led me to my next hard realization, a life with no prayer was a life where I didn’t think my requests to God would affect any outcome. If you boil that statement down, it led to wonderings about if I had only used prayer/God to attempt to control my surroundings. Letting go of prayer felt like a complete free fall to the afflictions entering into my family’s lives. Was my belief in God really just about having some comforting illusion that I was in control of something? Oof, that’s ugly. 

 

But I had to face it; face if what I believed was just some pacifying figment of my imagination. Maybe all of my answered prayers and blessings were just happy coincidences. Maybe serendipitous moments were just a part of everyone’s life, and I was just lacking them at the moment. If prayer was an effective means of communicating with a loving God, then why was the suffering getting worse? Conflicting thoughts abounded. Maybe my three decades on this earth would’ve been exactly the same if I had no knowledge of a higher being. 

 

It’s in this place that I needed to know that I wasn’t living one big lie; that I hadn’t dedicated my life to a fantasy. I finally had words for God. A request, perhaps my last, that I would offer up.

 

”God, if you are there, will you show me you care?”

 

The mustard seed of faith that had been sitting in my clenched hand was all but dust. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know where. I didn’t know what I was asking for, other than to be shown that He was really there with me. I needed something obvious. I wanted overwhelming evidence. I wasn’t going to fall for one lucky incident. I needed reassurance that was supernatural. And if He could do that, then I would at least believe that He cared enough to provide some level of comfort to me, even if it wasn’t in His will to restore us to our church, reunite us with our family, or provide us with a stable income.

 

Here’s what happened within one week of my prayer.

 

 

1. 1. He comforted me.

Our new baby was about three months old. I was just getting back into the rigamarole of being a parent of an itty bitty again. For the first several months of a baby’s life, non-urgent matters can really start to pile up. And that’s what was happening in my house. I had literal stacks of papers, clothes, and random things, piling up everywhere. I was completely caught up in the feedings, the changings, and the caring for my other four children that I had not straightened up anything. My baby, like most, loved to be held, so I rarely had time or energy to clean.

 

But something had come over me this particular day. I had decided it was time to start working through some of the clutter. In our bedroom, we had a cart that had tons of new baby necessities, stacks of papers from the hospital, and doctor’s visit bills. I knew half of it probably needed to be in the garbage. So the process began. I was nearing the end when I found the Yoda folder. It was a folder Miguel had purchased so that I knew where all of the important documents were. 

 

I opened it.

 

Sitting on top of a packet of papers was a card in an envelope, addressed to me. As I pulled it out, I recognized the handwriting but was very confused because I didn’t remember ever receiving it. I started attributing it to the massive brain fog I had been in, but as I turned it over I could see that it was sealed. I had never opened it because it had never been officially given to me.

 

The details of who the card was from, and what the contents were is too intimate to share here. What I can tell you is that every single word in that card spoke to my flailing heart. This card had been sitting within several feet of my bed for months, and I didn’t even know it existed. The message within was unlike any card I had received from this person in the past. It felt like a word from God being given to me right at its appointed time. Its contents were pure comfort for what I never knew I would be walking through, just months after the birth of my fifth child. I couldn’t believe that I had a physical token of comfort in my hands for the unseen spiritual matter I was wrestling with. My heart was thankful, but to be honest, I still needed more proof.

 

 

2. 2. He encouraged me.

That same week, I received a message from an old friend through Facebook Messenger. I hadn’t spoken to this dear friend in over ten years. I’ll never forget the hard seasons of life we walked through together. She held a special place in my heart, but she had moved away many years ago, and being Facebook acquaintances was our only connection point. I had no idea why she would be reaching out to me now so I was eager to read what she had sent. 

 

While I sat in the baby’s nursery, I read about how I had been on her mind in the last couple weeks and she felt strongly that she needed to contact me to tell me something. It was a thank you note for a conversation I had had with her over fifteen years ago! She explained how sharing my convictions with her had changed the course of her life and went on to say how my faithfulness to what the Lord has called me to had blessed her life.

 

Not only could I not recall the conversation she spoke of, but I had no idea the impact it had on her. It was and is one of the highest compliments I have ever been given and her words couldn’t have come at a better time. 

 

I so badly needed affirmation. I needed to be reminded of my value. I needed encouragement. 

 

I firmly believe that God used this woman, an old friend that I possibly thought I would never hear from again, to stop and write a message in the midst of my insecurities. My chin was gradually being pulled up. As I contemplated her message in a mostly empty room that only appeared to hold me and my baby, it didn’t feel so empty anymore. I felt His presence in my spirit.  

 

 

3. 3. He blessed me.

Midweek I had plans to go out for lunch with a neighborhood friend. I hadn’t known her very personally before, but when she heard of what our family was going through she leaned in. She is a follower of Christ and even though we had lived within a block of one another for the past two years we hadn’t made much of a point to connect. I had been looking forward to our lunch date. Although my heart was heavy, I knew getting out of the house, eating yummy food, and having an adult conversation would help.

 

While we were at the restaurant, exchanging stories and tears, a young man approached our table mid-meal. My friend recognized him, but I had never met him before. I soon came to find out that he was the high school helper that our children(her daughter and my son were in the same 5th grade class) had a couple years prior. For some background, our district’s high school has a class where any students interested in a future teaching job can help out in an elementary class for the year. It was a funny “coincidence” to officially meet this young man who had gotten to know both of our children in the same context.

 

As we began wrapping up our lunch, the former teacher’s helper stopped by one more time to say goodbye and told us that he had taken care of our lunch tab, leaving what appeared to be a business card on our table. We were completely shocked and thanked him for the unexpected gift. As we looked at the card together, we found out that it was a message to spread awareness about suicide. We looked at each other and shed more tears as we reflected on everything we had just discussed. 

 

Although this was a small cost compared to other gifts I have received, I can count on exactly one finger the times a stranger has paid for my meal. It was out of the ordinary. It was a free gift. It was a blessing, not just happenstance.

 

 

4. 4. He gave me a word.

I had an intense dream that week, which, if you have read this post, then you know it’s not unusual for me. But this dream had the ingredients of actually feeling like I was about to die, which is definitely rare. It’s a dream that I haven’t quickly forgotten, not only because of how scared I was, but because of the first word my conscious mind could grasp upon waking up.

 

In the dream, we were driving, well, technically my husband was driving. I was in the passenger seat of the car, and our five children were in the back. We were on some kind of expressway that went from being on an asphalt road to being on a body of water. Cars raced past us as we drove on top of what appeared to be a river. As I looked around I saw cars spinning out of control, colliding with one another. I told Miguel to slow down, but instead of losing speed, I could feel the vehicle accelerate. The fear I felt turned into a silent panic as I felt the water getting caught up in our wheels. We began to spin out and I braced myself for a deathly impact from one of the cars speeding by us. 

 

We had done several 360s when all of a sudden the car somehow straightened back out into the invisible lane we had been driving in, continuing on our journey. I woke up right at that moment and as the fear in my chest began to fade, the word, “TRUST”, kept coming to mind. 

 

I couldn’t shake that dream, the fear that I had felt, or the word ringing through my brain. It was going to take trust to get us through the next chapter of our lives. Even when things got worse. Even when things looked like certain death. I needed to trust that this wasn’t the end of our story.

 

 

5. 5. He sent support.

We had people showing up out of the woodwork that entire week. There were four people who were on our doorstep that week with the intention of caring intensely for us. Almost all of them we had not seen for several years. Again, some may call it a coincidence, but not even I can arrange schedules that well. People came when they were available and it just all happened to be that week. 

 

Looking back at my calendar now, I am amazed all over again at the avalanche of love and support we had received within those several days. And many of those same people have consistently cared for us for this entire past year. Wow, even now I realize how quickly I can forget how attentive He has been to me!

 

 

6. 6. Lastly, He reminded me.

While contemplating whether the God that I had been following was truly good or not, I was forced to reflect on a strange spiritual encounter I had just one year prior. 

 

In October of 2022, our friends were facing a significant trial. My spirit ached deeply for them and we didn’t know what would happen next. In my desperation, I resolved to fast and pray. Begging God for help; for some supernatural intervention.

 

Towards the end of the fast, something started happening. 

 

Instead of providing the miracle I had asked for for my friends, he provided one to me in the form of conviction, repentance, and healing. This encounter was one of the biggest cornerstones of my faith. I had never experienced anything like it and the timing of it was irrefutably related to my desperate cry to God. There is so much more detail that I will provide about what happened during this time in another post. 

 

For now, it was just the reminder I needed that proved to me that…

 

God is real. 

God is present. 

God is listening. 

God cares. 

And God can heal. 

 

It doesn’t mean I don’t still wonder when or if things will get better. 

It doesn’t erase the pain of the season we’re in. 

It doesn’t make my present troubles go away.

 

But on the days and nights when unbelief and doubt begin creeping into my mind, I pull out the card I keep in my nightstand drawer, I recall that dream, I open that message from my old friend, I remember the miracles he’s worked in my life, and I intentionally choose to trust all over again.

 

If you are ever in a place of needing to know if God is real or if He cares about you, I implore you to ask God to reveal Himself to you in a way that is undeniable. And when He does, spend the rest of your life seeking to know Him.  

 

If you have your own testimony of God showing up, please share it with us in the comments below.