Monday Morning Reflections

The sermon preview on the socials:

“When it feels like God is silent, your response reveals whether you want His presence, or just His help.”
#Silence #LifeOfDavid #SundaySermonPreviews

As I listened to this beautiful sermon on a fine Sunday morning while on vacation, I found myself relating it to several things in my own life.

My wife and I came away to escape the monotonous routines of daily life. After taking a few rides on the Orlando Eye and praising His name through the Bluetooth speaker in our cabin, we started searching for a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. All the meetings were far away, and I had already done a lot of driving. Sitting in more traffic felt frustrating, and I started thinking, “Ehhh, oh well… I’m okay. I don’t really need a meeting today.”

But God sometimes speaks through other people — and through circumstances.

A few weeks earlier, while planning this vacation and looking for a place to rest and relax for a few days, I found the Caribe Royale in Orlando. It seemed like the perfect quick getaway with plenty of amenities. On Saturday morning, while wiping the sleep from my eyes and heading to breakfast, I noticed a familiar symbol out of the corner of my eye.

That symbol was CA.

Later, we found out that we had unknowingly booked our stay during the CA Annual World Convention.

Once again, God spoke to me.

“We’ve gotta register.”

While Pastor Joe was speaking about silence and waiting for God’s voice or an answer, I couldn’t help but think about my years in active addiction and how desperately I tried to silence the noise in my head — what I now recognize as the enemy — with drugs, and lots of them.

I remember someone in an early recovery meeting once saying that when you can drive in complete silence — no music, no podcasts, just you and your thoughts — you may have finally found true serenity.

I tried for years to find that serenity in a silent car.

It never worked.

Early in recovery, I didn’t really believe in a specific higher power. Then I went through a traumatic season of sickness. I was lying alone in a hospital bed one night, praying desperate “foxhole prayers,” just like Pastor Joe described the soldiers on the beaches of Normandy praying.

The next night, I had a hospital roommate who was suffering from painful kidney stones. Meanwhile, I was close to sepsis, in terrible pain, and honestly afraid I might die.

He introduced himself and asked, “Hey, do you mind if I play some worship music?”

In my head, I thought, “Oh man… here we go.”

But I said, “Yeah, sure, man. Of course. I love music.”

At the time, music was just noise to distract me from my thoughts.

I can’t even remember what song he played because I was too busy sobbing and weeping.

But I do remember hearing a message.

That night, Jesus spoke to me.

That was the night I realized I had been following Him long before I even understood what it meant to truly be a follower.

Even though I didn’t start attending church consistently for a few years after that, it became a defining moment in my life. It was also the moment I began to feel comfortable in the silence.

What a beautiful thing it is to be on vacation and unexpectedly find yourself surrounded by believers and like-minded people. Those moments — both then and now — continue to draw me closer to Jesus.

Today, those moments of peace and solitude are gifts from Him. That silence — the once deafening silence — now brings me peace and clarity, allowing me to truly hear His Word.

I no longer believe in coincidences. I believe God reveals things to us through His Word and through the people and moments He places in our lives. Through church, family, my wife, and the incredible fellowship of NA, I’ve found a path that continues to lead me closer to Him.

I was so excited that the hotel had a casting feature on the TV so I could watch my GraceLife family and Pastor Joe while away.

Thank you to the amazing tech team that makes that possible for people who cannot physically be present at church.

Praise His name, and much love to all.

This is the first reflection I’ve ever written for church, but this is what I took away from the sermon.

And thank you to my wife, who encouraged me to write it.