I saw it on my morning walk, in a bird drying itself on a rock on a bank of the Canning River. I felt it in my spirit as God ministered in the silence between a dear friend who’s suffering and I. I have, at times, sensed there was a pervading and veritable darkness that hovered because of a perceived lack of it. But I heard it, too, as I conversed with another dear ministry friend as he shared with me how he has seen God working in his midst, in ways he wouldn’t have seen had bad things not happened.
God is working here, wherever ‘here’ may ever be.
God provided the air, heat and evaporation for the bird to be dried. He worked in the silence in a situation only silence can reconcile. He works to resurrect our perception of His Presence. He works behind the scenes of our awareness, so, through our faith, His Presence is piqued upon our awareness.
God is working even, and especially even, when we don’t or can’t notice it; when we’re blind to the goodness and faithfulness of Him who does little things that are never insignificant.
The interesting thing is the confluence between the faithfulness of God and our obedience in those moments when we can be as Jesus was; to do that by His Spirit.
In the gospel economy, the more we lose the more we gain. And this is particularly where we most see God working.
Where we see God is present even when things go wrong, we especially believe upon hope, waiting expectantly for His Presence to shine. We’re prepared and ready, and we don’t readily lose that hope.
God is working here, wherever our here is, eternally, active now, in the past, for the future, always, whether we notice Him working or not.
Nothing can ever or will ever change this fact. God was working before creation, and will be working after His physical creation is consumed.
There’s something incredibly encouraging in knowing God’s working in the midst of the nothingness of our lives.