Experiencing God’s Presence in the Ordinary Places

Here’s something my sparkly fingernails or the 12 throw pillows on my king-size bed might not tell you: I’m pretty a simple person. Not plain, but simple. I like the thought of elaborate things, but I’m already tired just thinking of creating all of that, so I opt for simple. I believe God likes simple. That’s why he most often shows up in the most ordinary ways like the hug from a faithful friend or the drooly, smile of a chubby-cheeked child.

I’m currently reading the book The Ministry of Ordinary Places by Shannon Martin. In it, Shannon shares stories of how she and her family awakened to God’s presence in ordinary places like the faces of her neighbors. Her life was turned right-side up as she discovered a new layer of his goodness while ushering in a whole new life, trading her cozy, spacious farmhouse for a basic builder-grade dwelling in a low-income neighborhood. I almost put the book down after reading that part. We had just purchased a cozy, new white couch (complete with nine throw pillows) and I didn’t dare give God the chance to tell me to send it back. So far, he hasn’t.

What is changing my life about this book is the reminder of how simple it is to experience God’s presence in ordinary ways. We church folk have made it so complicated and have taught non-church folk our misguided methods. To the non-church folk reading this, I offer a sincere, long-overdue apology. God wants to be known, to be experienced, and to be treasured . . . joyfully. 

Some of us think we need to go on a silent, spiritual retreat to appropriately access the presence of God or we need to trek the trails on a nature walk in the wild, or that our lives need to be tidy and tenable before God graces us with his treasured time, but the truth is, we can experience the presence of God in the most ordinary places and the most ordinary ways. 

Experiencing God’s Presence Even When We’re Bad

My husband, Shaun, and I have successfully raised two out of four children. Two of the Williams kids have finally ascended into adulthood (though it’s not as fun as they’d hoped) while the jury’s still out on the remaining two kids we still have at home. Pray for us.  Shaun and I high-five each other every time one of our two adult kids levels up in some form of his or her life. Despite what our friends and family think, our oldest two kids aren’t “killin’ the game” because Shaun and I were such awesome parents. Their success is nothing short of the grace and goodness of God, plus a much-needed spanking every now and then (don’t call CPS; everyone is safe). 

One particular painful day of parenting, I stood in my bathroom, fuming over one of my children’s many mistakes while lamenting over my immature and insensitive response to said child. I wanted to be a good mom, I really did, but this “mom so hard” thing was actually hard.  If only it looked as effortless as they said on Instagram. 

My prayer at that moment sounded more like fussing. Shaun was safely away at work, so God would have to do.

“Why, oh why do I keep losing it, Lord?!” The question was more rhetorical than response-worthy. “I’m so sick of this!”

I leaned against my vanity, begging God to cleanse my heart of my angry antics once again. Suddenly, I heard a thud in my bedroom. I peeked around the corner, expecting to discover what, I didn’t know. The only thing that was out of place was a picture frame. Well, let’s be honest. Everything was out of place, but the new thing that was out of place was a picture frame. It lay on the floor beside the bookcase from whence it must’ve fallen. 

I was perplexed. That picture frame had never fallen off the shelf before. It had been tucked far back against my collection of Karen Kingsbury Christian romance novels. I picked up the frame, holding it between my pointer finger and thumb like a pinched napkin containing a dead spider. When I turned it over, the tears came unannounced. 

It was a picture of my littlest one, Collin. His chubby, four-year-old hands held up a sign as he stood in front of a tall tree outside of his preschool. The sign simply read, MY MOM IS GOOD. I lost it. Right there in my bedroom. All the shame and blame I had been wrestling with were washed away by streams of sad surrender. I certainly was not good. Yet at that moment, God’s presence flooded my heart in the simplest yet sweetest of ways. He was so very near. Always when I needed him most. Always in the most ordinary ways.

Taste and See 

If you know me, you know I love food . . . except for meat and dairy. No thanks. But all others are welcome. There is nothing like sharing a great meal with a great friend. You want them to savor in the goodness of whatever you’re having or you help yourself to the corners of the meal they’re having. This is what the psalmist must’ve had in mind when he wrote, “Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh the joys of those who put their trust in him” (Psalm 34:8).

God wants to be experienced and enjoyed. He wants his presence to be savored like a five-course meal. And let me tell you, it is oh, so good! 

When you taste and see, you will never again settle for the stoic, stagnant life of a “churchified” relationship with God. His presence is so much better than that low-hanging fruit. Look around you, wherever you are, whatever state of mind you’re in. Close your eyes or keep them wide open. God’s presence is near you. Reach out and grab onto him. He’ll wait just for you.