I watch my human a lot.
Not in a creepy way…
But in the “you sometimes drop food" kind of way that dogs often do.
Quiet.
Steady.
From the floor while he moves through what he calls an “ordinary day.”
Wake up
Pray
Read the Word
Eat Breakfast
Pour coffee
Check his phone.
Same chair.
Same routine.
Same sigh sometimes.
Nothing special.
At least, that’s what he thinks.
But I’ve noticed something.
God seems to be in the ordinary.
My human calls it random when he runs into someone at the store.
He calls it coincidence when a verse shows up right when he needs it.
He calls it “just one of those things” when his plans change.
But I tilt my head and wonder…
What if it isn’t random at all?
I’ve heard him read this before:
“for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” - Philippians 2:13 ESV
That means even the small nudges—the ones we almost ignore—might be Him.
The other day, he almost didn’t make that call.
He almost didn’t stop to listen.
He almost stayed too busy.
But he didn’t.
And later, he said, “Wow… that felt like it mattered.”
I wagged my tail because I think it did too.
I live close to the ground.
I notice things.
The way his tone changes.
The way his steps slow down when something tugs at his heart.
Those “little” moments?
They’re not little.
I remember another line he read:
“…Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it”
- Genesis 28:16 HCSB
That sounds about right.
Because most of the time, we don’t see it while it’s happening.
We see it later, when we look back and connect the dots.
Kind of like how I don’t understand where we’re going when we leave the house… but I trust him anyway.
And then there’s this one too—
“Who dares despise the day of small things…” - Zechariah 4:10 NIV
That’s a good one.
Because my human does that sometimes.
He shrugs off the small things.
The quiet obedience.
The unseen kindness.
The simple step.
But I don’t.
A scratch behind my ears?
Not small.
A kind word?
Not small.
A moment of stillness with God?
Definitely not small.
Maybe heaven sees those things differently than we do.
Maybe what feels ordinary to us is exactly where God is moving most.
So I’ll keep watching.
From my spot on the floor.
Through the rhythm of our days.
Through the “random” moments we almost miss.
And when he pauses…
When he listens…
When he follows that quiet nudge—
I’ll wag my tail.
Because it doesn’t look random from down here.
It looks like God.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
