The Quiet Power of God’s Thoughtful Details

Today is our son’s 28^th birthday. Normally, that would be such a festive, joyful occasion, but for our family it’s bittersweet. We definitely will honor the day he was born. We will recall his smile, his mischievous personality (always accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes), his loyalty to those he loved, his compassion for the marginalized, his athletic abilities, his gift of observance, and his constant desire to know more. We definitely will celebrate him. We just won’t get to celebrate with him. At least not in person. As he has for the last two years, Noah is celebrating his birthday in heaven.

We lost Noah to a drug overdose on June 26, 2021. The journey has been gut-wrenching, sorrowful, strangulating, numbing, isolating, staggering, and sobering. But the road also has been marked by hope, growth, tenderness, reconciliation, love, and a gentle quietness. Something I call the quiet power of thoughtful details inspired those latter experiences. And every one of those tender offerings, while perhaps delivered in the hands of friends, family, and even a few strangers, were sent as blessings from God. That’s what I believe. Amidst deep grief, I also remember great gifts, such as:

• God granting me the best Mother’s Day ever with my children in May 2021 and giving me assurance that our son knew and valued my love for him.
• God orchestrating a final conversation between Noah, my husband, and me that pointed Noah back to Jesus and His invitation to let Him give Noah rest.
• Special visits from strangers at Noah’s funeral who recounted the ways that Noah encouraged them and motivated them to achieve their dreams.
• A conversation with Noah’s employers who shared how much they valued Noah (a truth he struggled to see).
• Months of cards, letters, visits, meals, and presents from a large and deeply caring community.

I could see all of those thoughtful details because God ordained circumstances that forced me into a season of stillness. He had my attention and used that focus to show me the many ways He loves me and our family, including Noah.  He showed me that He not only hadn’t abandoned us, but that He was more present than ever before. He used this storm of life to send my faith roots deeper into His fertile soil and the truth of His Bible. He transformed me subtly over time by opening my eyes to mistruths I was believing – misunderstandings about His heart and character and desires for His creatures. And if those thoughtful details weren’t enough, He keeps showing up.

By God’s grace, we have moved from a place of forced stillness to seasons of chosen rest. Last week was one of those events. My husband and I celebrated our 35^th wedding anniversary (a miracle in itself given all we have endured) by traveling to our happy place – the beach. From the moment I stepped foot on that sandy shore I began noticing God’s thoughtful details. First, he greeted me with diving pelicans. For some reason, the brown birds that populate our favorite spot have fascinated me for years. I love how they soar above the ocean, scoping out their next meal, then rise higher into the air before diving head-first at break-neck speed into the water and the sustenance awaiting them under its surface. But seeing them also reminded me of the many times Noah would join me on walks along those waters, spying out diving pelicans with me. Oh, the conversations we would share while looking for those birds. One morning last week, my husband and I arrived at the beach before sunrise so that we could capture glimpses of that great orange ball rising brightly over the clear blue ocean. At one point I knelt down next to a tidal pool in the sand to capture a perfect photo. A stranger suddenly sweetened the shot by pointing out three starfish in the foreground. A tiny flotilla of God’s thoughtfulness had emerged again. In that moment God reminded me of the year Noah and I walked the beach rescuing stranded starfish from the sands and placing them back in their aquatic abodes. We must have scooped up dozens of those creatures.

I couldn’t help but feel God’s presence with my husband and me the entire week. He not only granted us a special time to celebrate our 35-year union, but He also helped us recount the joys of our family. Sadly, we will make no further memories with our son on this side of heaven. But, by God’s grace and love, we can forever keep the memories we did make as a family of four. We also can continue making memories with each other and our beautiful daughter. I am sure we will create many in Noah’s honor.

In the meantime, I must note another lesson I learned about God’s thoughtful details. Like the stars in the sky, they are abundant and ever-present. We just can’t always see them. Stars are often obscured by clouds or the light pollution of heavily populated cities. The clearer and purer the skies, the more prominent and populous those little beams of heavenly light become. For a suburban dweller like me, I have to travel out of my way and along some dark pathways to see those myriad glimmers of light. But the journey is worth it.

And so is the journey for scouting out God’s thoughtful details. You have to be in a position to see them. Sometimes God will use a dark, isolating circumstance in our lives to show us those details more clearly. Sometimes we need to carve out those quiet moments for ourselves in order to see them. There is quiet power in thoughtful details because quietness lets us notice them, and stillness opens us up to their power. May you spot many in your own journey, and may they assure you of God’s continual, loving presence.

— Linda R. Maynard © May 22, 2024