He Is Still the God Who Sees

As this month comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on the quiet, undeserved blessings of God—the kind we don’t recognize until much later, when hindsight reveals the fingerprints of His grace. Before I truly allowed God into every corner of my life, I now realize that I was still walking under His favor. Even in seasons when I resisted His direction, when I convinced myself that I knew best, He never stopped keeping His hand on me.

There were moments when I felt completely lost, convinced that God had turned His back on me. But looking back now, I see that He was holding me together the entire time. His guidance didn’t stop because I was wandering. His love didn’t fade because I was stubborn. His favor didn’t disappear simply because I didn’t recognize it.

One of the clearest examples of this was when my grandmother passed away. For months, I heard that gentle whisper telling me to go home. I felt the nudge in my spirit, but I kept putting it off—I’ll get there soon… It’s not the best time… maybe next month. COVID made everything complicated, and excuses felt justified. But deep down, I knew the Lord was speaking.

Then came the call. My grandmother had taken a turn for the worse. Immediately, I booked a flight and secured time off. But the very next day, I got another call—one that implied I might not make it in time. My heart sank. I was devastated, wrestling with the fear that my disobedience had cost me my final goodbye with someone I loved dearly.

But here is the beauty of God: He knows exactly what we need, even when we delay, resist, or doubt. He is merciful enough to meet us in the consequences of our own choices—not with condemnation, but with grace.

When I arrived at the hospital, expecting to be too late, God met me with a miracle. My grandmother was still breathing. Not only that—she lifted herself ever so slightly as I entered the room, acknowledging that she knew I was there. When doctors had declared it was over, God said, Not yet. There is still something left to do.

I was able to say my goodbyes. I hugged her. I sat with family and enjoyed her presence for the gift that it was. She passed the very next day, but God had given me what my heart desperately needed—one last moment, one last connection, one final whisper of love.

Some may see that as small, but for me, it was life-changing. It was God’s way of reminding me:

Even in your stubbornness, I still see you. I still hear you. I still care.

It was confirmation of His faithfulness—steady, undeserved, relentless.

As we close out November, let this be our reminder:

Rejoice. Give thanks. Seek the Lord with a sincere heart.

Even when things don’t look the way we hoped, even when we don’t understand, even when we feel like we’ve fallen short—He is still the God who sees.

Jehovah El Roi—the God who sees you, knows you, and covers you with grace you could never earn.

May we enter the next season with gratitude, humility, and a renewed awareness of His unwavering love.