Looking back, the darkest season of our marriage came in early 2006. We were two years into Cindy’s horrific health journey, and it was taking a massive toll on both of us. The opiates prescribed for her increasing pain had changed her into someone I barely recognized. Conversations that once brought connection now felt like emotional and verbal attacks. I had prayed earnestly for healing and for things to return to “normal,” but God’s answer, at least for that season, was clearly, “It’s not time yet.” I had reached what I thought was my breaking point. Late one Friday afternoon, I searched for a divorce attorney and planned to call first thing Monday morning.
That same afternoon, on my drive home, I turned on the local Christian radio station as usual. An advertisement for FamilyLife’s Weekend to Remember marriage conference came on. The conference helps couples at every stage—from crisis and recovery to simply strengthening what’s already good. As the ad ended, I heard one clear word in my spirit: WAIT!
It wasn’t from the radio. No one else was in the car. I knew it was the Holy Spirit speaking directly to me. When I got home, I wrote myself a note to look into the conference on Monday. God wasn’t finished. Sunday night, after our small group Bible study, two of the women pulled me aside. They asked a very direct question: “Are you planning on divorcing Cindy?” I had told no one about my plans. There was no natural explanation for them both independently feeling prompted to ask that exact question. I shared what was happening and told them about the conference. They strongly encouraged me to take Cindy and wait before making any life-destroying decisions.
Monday morning, I registered us for the conference. We couldn’t afford the hotel, so we made the 45-minute drive each way for three days. Cindy came reluctantly. By Saturday afternoon, something had shifted. We had a path forward – together. The one truth that stuck with both of us was simple but powerful: Your spouse is not the enemy. Satan is. That single reminder has carried us through many hard seasons since.
God Often Shows Up in Ways We Don’t Expect. To Moses, He appeared in a burning bush (Exodus 3:1-10). To Balaam, He spoke through a donkey (Numbers 22:21-39). To Elijah, He came in a still, small voice after wind, earthquake, and fire (1 Kings 19:11-13). In our darkest seasons, we often look for dramatic deliverance, but He frequently comes through quiet provision, a timely word, a “random” conversation, or a coincidence too perfect to ignore.
That’s exactly what happened to us.
The story of Joseph is a powerful example. Betrayed by his brothers, thrown into a pit, sold into slavery, and forgotten in prison – yet God was positioning him to become second in command over Egypt. Ruth and Naomi lost everything, only to be redeemed through Boaz’s unexpected kindness. Paul and Silas sang at midnight in prison, and God answered with an earthquake and salvation. Hagar, alone and desperate in the wilderness, encountered “the God who sees me.”
Why Does God Show Up This Way? God is certainly capable of instant, spectacular miracles. But He often chooses the unexpected path because:
– It builds genuine faith and dependence on Him.
– It displays His creativity and sovereignty.
– It prevents us from taking credit.
– It trains us to recognize His voice in everyday life.
One Christmas, when I had no money for gifts for the kids and no way to earn extra, someone anonymously gave us $500 through our church. That gift reminded me I could trust Him to provide. It was creative, timely, and unmistakably from Him.
Sometimes the most important thing we can do is simply be still and listen. Turn off the distractions, open your Bible, and quiet your heart. God still speaks – often in the ordinary – if we’re willing to wait and recognize His voice.
If you’re in a dark season right now and God seems silent, take heart. He may be preparing a surprise you never saw coming. Keep showing up. Keep listening. And don’t underestimate what He can do through a radio ad, a friend’s bold question, or an anonymous envelope.