There are a few prayers I’ve prayed for so long that I’ve grown weary in the waiting—the ache in my heart can no longer be expressed in words but only in weeping. Spurgeon says our tears are liquid prayers…

Desperate for answers, I’ve started taking to the woods in the early morning hours.

Yesterday, with the sun barely peaking in the morning sky, bundled in layers, I sat on a moss-covered log and cried, “God, could you please just let me know somehow, some way, that you are here with me? Here in these woods, please let me know that you are present and near to me now.”

With tears streaming down my face I whispered, “God, you know what I would really love here in this moment? I’d love to see a deer, a deer that would just appear and look me straight in the eyes.” Not once have I ever seen a deer in all the years I have walked the woods just beyond my back door.

I closed my eyes and began to softly sing, “I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses…and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.”

Then I heard it, up on the hillside—a rustling in the fallen leaves. A beautiful deer crested the hillside, stopped and looked me straight in the eyes. I couldn’t believe it!  But then, to my utter amazement, another deer crested the hill and stood beside the first deer and then a third deer came up over the hill. And there they stood—three beautiful deer, all intently staring at me with the most beautiful soulful eyes I’ve ever seen.

The tears fell hard and fast. Not one, but three beautiful deer staring at me—and it was as if the Father whispered, “We’re all here with you, The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit. You are seen, you are heard, you are loved.”

They stood there for a good while before moving beyond the hillside. I continued my time in prayer and when it was time to head back home, I glanced up to the hillside one last time. I couldn’t believe my eyes—there they were—all three beautiful deer standing on the ridge of the hill. I whispered to myself, “Of course. Of course, God would do that.”

It was one of the most beautiful encounters I’ve ever had with God. Turns out there’s beauty on the other side of desperate.

And here’s what I would say to you…it is no secret what God can do—what He’s done for others, He will do for you. He will come through and deliver you too.

In these days of much confusion, much uncertainty, much wondering of what will be…find your quiet, find your secret place—take to the woods if you can, or to some off-beaten-path, but find your quiet and seek Him there with all your heart.

He’ll meet you there…I promise. I don’t know when and I don’t how, but He’ll find you. He’ll show up in ways that you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt…twas none but God that met you there…alone…in that secret place.

Blessings,

Joan