When Weakness Leads Us Back to God

Seen by God: Finding Strength When You Feel Unseen

There was a time in my life when I stood at what many would call “the top of my game.” My career was strong. My influence was wide. My schedule was full. And while my calendar overflowed, my spiritual life was quietly starving. I read Scripture, but not deeply. I prayed, but not intimately. My connection with God existed, but it often lived on the surface.

Then, life shifted. Opportunities faded. Influence diminished. The doors that once swung open without resistance suddenly closed. Financial security vanished. My relevance felt questioned. And alongside the professional loss came something even more painful: seasons of feeling unseen, unheard, and forgotten—sometimes even within the places where I sought encouragement and community.

That’s why the raw honesty of Psalm 142:4 resonates deeply with me:

“Look and see, there is no one at my right hand;
no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;
no one cares for my life.”

There have been moments when I have related to that cry. Times when I poured myself out and still felt overlooked. Times when I showed up faithfully and left discouraged. Times when silence from others echoed louder than words. And like David, that reality had the power to wound deeply.

But like David, I also learned this: even when we feel unseen by people, God has never stopped seeing us. He has never stopped caring. He has never stopped showing compassion. And even when loneliness whispers that we are forgotten, God remains steadfastly present.

The apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that the Lord declares,

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

That verse stopped being theological theory in my life and became reality. In my weakness, God met me. In my loss, He taught me dependence. In uncertainty, He taught me trust. In humility, I discovered His strength in ways I never had before.

Today, I find myself deeper in the Word than I have been in years. I study, not because it is convenient, but because it is life-sustaining. I pray, not casually, but out of true need. I seek Him, not out of habit, but because I know I cannot walk through these seasons without Him.

I recently reflected on my finances and realized that I now make a fraction, literally about a fifth, of what I once did. By human logic, that should not work. Yet somehow, the Lord continues to provide. My family has food. We are clothed. We have shelter. We have peace. God keeps making a way.

Psalm 23:1 declares:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

I used to read that from comfort. Now I read it from dependence, and its truth has never been more real.

And through it all, I have experienced the tenderness of God’s heart. Psalm 103:13 reminds us:

“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.”

Even in the moments when I felt overlooked… He saw me.
When I felt invisible… He was near.
When discouragement took root… He met me with compassion.

Satan would love to take seasons of loneliness and twist them into lies: “You are forgotten. You are useless. You no longer matter.” But Scripture reminds us otherwise. In our weakness, God’s strength is revealed. In our emptiness, His sufficiency is revealed. In our sense of being unseen, His watchful love is revealed.

So I continue to pray, not simply for restoration, but that God will use my life right where it is. I pray that the testimony of God’s faithfulness in struggle may remind someone else who feels unseen that God still sees them too.

If you are walking through a season like that…
If you feel invisible…
If it feels like no one stands beside you…

Take courage. God sees you. He hears you. He cares deeply for you. And He is nearer than you think.

Sometimes, it is in the very places we feel the weakest, most overlooked, and most vulnerable that God shows us just how strong, compassionate, and faithful He truly is.


Prayer

Lord, thank You for Your grace that meets me in my weakness and Your strength that sustains me each day. Help me keep my eyes fixed on You, guarding my heart from the lies that tell me my worth is found anywhere but in You. Teach me to lean into You more deeply, especially in seasons of loneliness, need, uncertainty, and humility. Remind me that You see me, You care for me, You are my Shepherd and my compassionate Father, and help me trust that Your presence is enough. Amen.

Be Where Your Feet Are: A Christian Reflection on Contentment, Purpose, and Gratitude

A few days ago, I had an unexpected encounter in my driveway. A man I didn’t immediately recognize approached me and asked, “Do you remember me?” He then reminded me that many years ago, he had brought his daughter to my office. I had worked with her and their family during a time of great need. He shared that because of that support, she is now thriving, excelling in a successful military career and having recently completed law school. He told me their entire family still attributes much of her journey to the help I offered back then. I was humbled beyond words.

After he left, I stood there for a while, reflecting. That moment stirred something deep within me. I realized just how much I miss working with young people, helping them believe in themselves, overcome obstacles, and step confidently into their future. It reminded me of the calling I once lived out daily, and how sacred that work truly was. In those seasons, I don’t think I appreciated fully the weight or beauty of the opportunity I’d been given.

God gave me gifts, and for a time, He opened doors for me to use them in powerful ways. But if I’m honest, there were times when I was so focused on what was next, the next title, the next achievement, the next milestone, that I missed the miracle of the present. I didn’t always “be where my feet were.”

That phrase, “Be where your feet are”, was spoken to Coach Nick Saban as he frequently reminded his players, but it has deep biblical resonance. God has already given us so much: family, health, calling, love, and grace. But if we’re always chasing the next thing, we risk missing what’s already in our hands. One day, we look up, and it’s gone.

Paul understood this tension. He wrote in Philippians 4:12:

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…”

Paul didn’t write those words from a place of comfort. He wrote them from prison. Yet he had found the secret to contentment: not in circumstances, but in Christ. His peace didn’t come from what he had or didn’t have. It came from who he belonged to.

That’s the peace I’m seeking now. Looking back, I can see how God walked with me even in the hardest times. I see now that He was teaching me, preparing me, and holding me close even when I didn’t realize it. And though I carry sorrow over what’s lost, I’m learning to also carry deep gratitude for what was, and what still is.

So now, my prayer has changed. I ask God to help me stay rooted in the moment, to treasure the gifts I’ve been given, and to trust Him with both what has passed and what’s still to come. I pray for the strength to be fully where my feet are, and to recognize that even now, God is not done using my story.

If you’re reading this and wrestling with discontentment, I invite you to pause. Ask God to show you what He’s already doing right in front of you. Not in the future. Not in the “what if.” But right now. He’s here. He sees you. And He’s still writing your story.

Prayer:
Lord, help me to see the blessings in front of me. Teach me to live fully present, with a heart rooted in contentment and gratitude. Help me to let go of regret and to trust You with my future. Keep my feet grounded in Your purpose, and let me walk forward in peace. Amen.