Quiet Beginnings

One of the things I've learned over the years is that life rarely announces the moments that will someday become important.

When we're living them, they just feel like another ordinary Monday.

I'm sitting on the deck this morning with my coffee, enjoying one of those perfect spring mornings that makes you want to stay outside all day. The birds are singing, the breeze is cool, and for the first time in a long while we've returned to in-person church. There is something comforting about familiar rhythms finding their way back.

The last few days have been unexpectedly full, and I wanted to write them down before they slowly became memories.

Rachel met someone.

Even writing those words makes me smile.

Like so many young adults today, she'd occasionally meet people online, but nothing had ever really seemed to click. Then, almost unexpectedly, she agreed to meet someone for ice cream one evening. When she came home that night, I knew before she ever said a word that something was different. There was a quiet excitement about her that only a mother would probably notice. It wasn't the excitement of infatuation as much as the surprise of discovering someone she genuinely enjoyed spending time with.

The next evening they went out again, and before long she found herself trying to decide whether it would be completely crazy to invite someone she'd only recently met to our Monday night family Bible study.

I smiled at that.

From my perspective, if someone sincerely wanted to come study God's Word with us, how could we not extend the invitation? It seemed like the kind of decision we'd rather trust God with than overthink.

There was another interesting connection that made me stop for a minute.

Rachel had recently applied for an administrative position at a local church, a place she felt excited about and thought might be a wonderful fit. Somewhere along the way she discovered that Aaron also attended that church and had applied for the very same position. They had mutual friends she hadn't realized they shared, and suddenly this complete stranger didn't seem quite so much like a stranger after all.

I don't know that any of those details meant anything by themselves.

Maybe they didn't.

But together they felt like little reminders that God is often working quietly in ways we don't immediately recognize. Not everything works out the way we hope it will. Sometimes the job isn't the right one. Sometimes the plans we make change completely. But I've found that even when one door closes, it doesn't mean God wasn't at work in the hallway leading us there.

As a mom, I try to hold those moments with an open hand.

I've learned that if I get too far ahead of the story, I begin writing chapters that God hasn't written yet. It's much better for me to simply enjoy what He's doing today and trust Him with tomorrow.

So tonight we'll gather around the table for Bible study like we do every Monday. Tricia is joining us for the first time, and apparently Aaron will be there too.

I have no idea what the future holds.

Maybe this is the beginning of something important.

Maybe it's simply another Monday evening spent around God's Word with family and a new friend.

Either way, I'm grateful.

Sometimes faith looks like stepping aside, opening the door, and trusting that if God is writing the story, He knows exactly where it's going.

Looking back now, I smile at how ordinary that day felt.

The moments that shape our lives so often begin that way.