After weeks on the road, traveling from one beautiful place to another, I thought coming home would be restful — a welcome return to familiarity. But the transition has been harder than I expected.

Going from the constant motion and wonder of nature back into the rhythm of normal life left me feeling strangely disoriented. I’m back in the place I’ve spent most of my life, yet I feel lost in it. The island, once so familiar, now feels like a stranger. The quiet here feels lonelier than the solitude I knew on the road.

I felt so close to God out there — in the still forests, beneath towering redwoods, under endless skies. His presence felt tangible. My spirit was open, vulnerable, aware. I leaned on Him daily, hourly — because I had to.

But now?
Now I find it harder to hear Him.

The spark that once grew into a steady flame inside my heart feels dimmed. Inspiration doesn’t come as easily. The beauty feels muted, and the everyday rhythms seem to dull my senses to the sacred.

And yet… I know the truth:
God hasn’t changed.
He’s just as present in my living room as He was on a mountaintop.

And maybe — just maybe — it’s here in the ordinary that we need Him most.

Because while the big moments of life awaken us to our need for God, it’s the ordinary days that form us. It’s here — in the familiar routines, in the quiet, in the long stretches of normal — that we build our lives.
These are the days where we love our families, raise our children, grow in patience, and pour grace into the little cracks of daily life.
These are the days where kindness to a neighbor, gentleness with a spouse, or quiet prayer over a child’s bed can carry eternal weight.
This is where faith takes root — in one ordinary moment after another.

Sometimes it’s easier to draw close to God in the highs or lows of life — the mountaintops or the valleys. But the in-between? The daily?
That’s where consistency is cultivated. Where legacy is shaped.
Where the love of Christ is practiced in small, unseen acts that ripple far beyond our sight.

The ordinary days are our lives.
And they are not lesser.

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📖 Scripture for the Ordinary Seasons (NKJV):

Lamentations 3:22–23
“Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

Psalm 46:10
“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

Colossians 3:23–24
“And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ.”

John 15:4
“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.”

Isaiah 30:15
“For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength.’”

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🧩 Reflection Questions:

• Have I unintentionally stopped depending on God now that life feels “normal” again?
• What are the small, quiet ways God may be inviting me to see Him today?
• How might the ordinary days become a place of transformation if I meet God there?

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🙏 A Prayer for the Ordinary Days:

Father,
For every heart reading this who feels stuck, dimmed, or distant from You — would You remind them that You are not far? You are here, even in the quiet. Even in the routine. Even when the inspiration fades.

Draw near in the stillness. Reignite the hunger to seek You, not just in awe-filled moments, but in everyday life.

Give us eyes to see You in the small things — in morning light through a window, in folded laundry, in the faces of the people we love. Teach us again to depend on You, to abide in You, to welcome You into every corner of our ordinary days.

We don’t want to live by our own strength. We want to live aware of Your presence — here, now, always.

Amen.