When God Sends you a Sign you Can’t Ignore…

Do you ever have moments where you see God move in a way that can only be explained as Him? Moments so tender, so personal, that you know He’s reminding you He sees you?

I’d like to share one of those moments—a story He brought back to my mind recently.

For those who know me well, you’ll know I’ve walked a long journey with chronic health challenges. In 2021, things were especially rough. My body seemed to be in constant battle—catching one illness after another, reacting to foods, and struggling to absorb the nutrients I desperately needed. My weight dropped drastically, and my strength with it. It was one of those seasons where hope can start to feel thin.

There was a park I used to visit—a quiet little place where I’d sit under a wide, leafy tree on a wooden bench and spend time with God. That spot became my sanctuary. It felt like our place.

One afternoon that September, I sat down on that familiar bench, weary and praying quietly. Something on the ground caught my eye. Curious, I bent down and saw four seashells, neatly arranged right beneath where I sat.

This park wasn’t near the beach—nowhere close. I remember frowning in surprise, wondering how they’d even gotten there. Then I noticed the writing. On three of the shells, in careful lettering, were the words:

“God is love.”

And on the fourth:

“And no resident will say, ‘I am sick.’” — Isaiah 33:24

For a moment, I just sat there, shocked. Those words felt like they had been placed there just for me. At that time, God had already been whispering to me about healing, and seeing that Scripture—right in my quiet place—felt like a divine echo of His promise. A reminder that His love was not distant or abstract, but present, intentional, active.

I took the shells home and placed them on a shelf in my office. Four years later, the writing has begun to fade, but the message hasn’t. Those shells remain a sacred reminder of a God who meets us in the most unexpected places.

Has healing come? In many ways, yes—slowly, steadily, in ways I couldn’t have imagined then. I still have miles to walk, but looking back, I can see how far He’s brought me. Every time I glance at those shells, I feel renewed hope for what He’s still doing—because I know He’s not finished yet.

Shells represent covering, protection, and home. Isn’t that who God is for us? Our shelter, our defender, our resting place.

I share this because I think it’s vital to remember what God has done. Scripture often shows God reminding His people—“Remember how I brought you out of Egypt.” Those reminders are anchors. They pull us back to hope when the future feels uncertain.

Maybe today this story is your reminder, too. Think back to a moment when God met you—when He left something along your path that spoke to your heart. He hasn’t forgotten His promises to you. What He spoke will come to pass.

God is love.

And His love always finds a way to reach us—even if it’s through four shells under a park bench.