I Didn’t See God, But He Was There
There are moments in life when the weight gets too heavy to carry—when you wake up and the ache in your chest greets you before your feet even hit the floor. When tears fall silently, not because of one thing, but everything. And in those moments, I didn’t see God. I couldn’t feel Him. I didn’t hear the still, small voice everyone talked about.
But He was there.
He was there when I collapsed on the bathroom floor, trying to catch my breath from the storm of emotions that had no name. When I whispered into the darkness, “I can’t do this,” and there was no audible answer—but somehow, I made it through the night. He was there when I forced a smile in public but came home to cry behind closed doors. When I thought I was alone, He was the one holding me together.
I used to think that God’s presence meant something dramatic—heavenly signs, parted seas, fire from the sky. But I’ve learned that more often, His presence shows up in quiet endurance, in the unexplainable strength to face one more day.
He was there in the text I didn’t expect, just when I needed it. In the unexpected kindness of a stranger. In the song that played at just the right moment. In the way my dog nestled against me like she knew my heart was breaking. In the breath I kept breathing, even when I didn’t know how I could.
Looking back, I see Him not as a distant deity, but as the steady hand behind every step I thought I took alone.
When I couldn’t walk—when I felt like I was crawling through grief, anxiety, heartbreak, and exhaustion—He carried me. Not with fireworks or grand gestures, but with grace. Quiet, powerful, unshakable grace.
He carried me through every sleepless night.
He held me when the words wouldn’t come.
He walked with me through every valley, even the ones I thought I was navigating solo.
I’ve learned that not seeing Him doesn’t mean He isn’t there. It just means I’m human. And He’s God. Big enough to hold me even when I can’t feel Him. Loving enough to stay when everyone else walks away. Faithful enough to never let me fall, even when I think I’ve hit rock bottom.
So no, I didn’t see God in those hard moments.
But I see now that He never took His eyes off me.
And maybe that’s what faith is—trusting that He’s there, even when we can’t see through the fog. Believing He’s carrying us, even when our knees buckle and our strength fails. Knowing that one day, we’ll look back and realize we were never walking alone.
Because even in the silence, even in the dark, even in the brokenness—He was there.
He always is.
