When I Asked for a Sign
I’ve been walking this journey back to Jesus slowly. Not because I don’t want to be here—I do. I want Him. I want to be close. But I’ve been hesitant. Not out loud, not in my actions, but in my heart. There’s been this quiet fear that maybe I’m asking for too much. That maybe I’m not ready. That maybe the things I desire aren’t for me at all. Not because they’re wrong, but because I still struggle to believe I deserve them. I pray for good things—things that feel rooted in Him: a steady home, a job that allows me to be present for my son, a relationship grounded in prayer, a life that feels whole and holy. And even while I’m praying, there’s this voice I have to fight back. The one that says, “Who do you think you are to want all that?”
So I prayed for something simple: a sign. Not a dramatic answer or a miracle—just some gentle confirmation that Jesus is near. That I’m not walking toward Him alone. That the prayers I’ve been repeating for years haven’t gone unnoticed. That the desires I’m holding, if they’re from Him, are still possible. And if they’re not—if any of them are distractions or detours—I asked that He take them from me, because I don’t want to cling to anything that isn’t aligned with His plan for my life.
The next day, my dad had surgery. My mom went with him, and I stayed home with my son. Nothing about the day looked remarkable from the outside, but something was different. My son was calm. Happy. At peace. And because he was, I was too. We didn’t go anywhere. We didn’t do anything extravagant. He played in the yard while I sat on the porch with my Bible. I read and prayed, not for anything new, but just to be still with God. And in that stillness, I heard it. Not audibly—but clearly. In my spirit, without question. “The blessings you prayed for years ago are here now. They may not look how you pictured them, but they are here. And the others—the ones you’re still praying for—they’re on their way.”
It didn’t come with fireworks. Just a settled knowing that I couldn’t shake. I felt it again later that afternoon while driving. I had picked up a coffee for myself, and my son was in the backseat eating a croissant, talking to himself in that sweet toddler way. The sun was warm, the car was quiet, and I felt completely content. It happened again outside the pharmacy, waiting for my mom to pick up my dad’s post-op meds. My son was still in the back, the coffee was still warm, and I remember thinking: this is it. This is the sign I asked for. Not a moment full of answers—but one full of presence. Of peace. Of Him.
It was like something in me finally exhaled. Not because everything is resolved, but because I’m not chasing anymore. I’m not striving to earn what’s already mine. Because I know now—I know—that God heard me. That He’s been listening this whole time. And even though it didn’t all come at once, the blessings I prayed for are arriving. Some already have. Some are unfolding right in front of me. And the rest—He’s preparing them. Not maybe. Not someday if I’m lucky. They are coming, in His timing and in His way.
I’m reminded of Psalm 55:22—“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you.” I think I misunderstood that verse for years. I thought casting my burdens meant letting go and waiting helplessly. But it means trusting Him to hold what I can’t. And not just hold it—but sustain me in the waiting. In the longing. In the not-quite-yet. He hasn’t left me empty. He’s been filling the quiet spaces with exactly what I need to keep going.
This season isn’t just preparation. It’s provision. It’s answered prayers, not always in the ways I expected, but always in the ways I needed. And I’m not guessing anymore. I’m not hoping for signs. I already received one. I saw it in the ordinary. I heard it on the porch. I felt it in the stillness of a car ride with my son and a coffee cup in hand.
I don’t need to wonder if He’s near. He is. I don’t need to question if I’m worthy. He already called me worthy. And I don’t need to ask if the blessings are coming.
They’re already here. And the rest are on their way.
