We think we’re waiting for the still, small voice of God. Sometimes it’s not a voice.
We’d looked everywhere for the keys–nada. We prayed.
In my mind’s eye, I saw our young son poking the keys through the side of the laundry basket (how he loved to put things into little spaces). We checked the basket, voila! Keys.
My view was from above the ceiling. I later understood this was an image straight from God. I would have envisioned it from my own eye level. What I saw was a God’s eye view.
God doesn’t have to use words.
