Discovering joy and God’s presence in a quiet season of transition

I said goodbye to Florida and everything it held for me. I left my children, my friends, my church, and the home I last shared with my husband. I stepped away from the familiar and entered a new season in Georgia, drawn by the cooler weather and four seasons. For the first time in 40 years, I faced life alone.
Approaching Atlanta felt surreal, the packed highways were empty. Signs warned travelers to stay home, limit contact and go out only when necessary. Covid had taken over. It didn’t seem like such a big deal in Florida. Another story altogether here in Georgia. The entire state went into lockdown when I arrived.
In the weeks that followed, I found isolation, empty streets, masked faces, and silence. I didn’t know anyone and there was very little opportunity to meet anyone. I had no way of knowing how long this season would last. A fresh start quickly became a time of sitting in my living room, day after day, wondering if I had made the wrong decision. I tried to make the most of it. I went on long walks in the park, stayed busy with creative projects in the house. Eventually, even those things stopped feeling like enough. Being an extrovert, a lack of connection wore on me. I spent a lot of time talking to the Lord, asking for wisdom and I cried many tears during those months, asking God why He had brought me here. It felt like my life was on hold.
One day I couldn’t take it anymore. I just needed to get out of the house, so I decided to run an errand. I had something to return at a store, and that felt like reason enough to leave. As I pulled into the parking lot and walked toward the store, something stirred in me. I felt it so clearly, go to Hobby Lobby. I must have heard wrong because I didn’t need anything from Hobby Lobby. So, I continued on toward the store where I needed to make my return, I heard it again, go to Hobby Lobby. Why I asked? Just go. So, finally I went.
I went in and wondered what I was doing there. Maybe meet a new friend? I wandered around the store, walking up and down aisles, and the whole time I kept asking, why am I here? I didn’t need anything and yet I felt compelled to keep looking, aisle after aisle.
At one point, I came to the end of an aisle, I saw it and knew why God brought me there. There on the wall was a floral scripture print with the words, “I am with you always.” The moment I saw it, I knew. God had brought me into this store to find this one simple reminder. God reminded me I wasn’t alone. He had seen me sitting in my living room crying. He knew the tears I had cried wondering if I had made a mistake moving here. He knew the loneliness. He knew the ache of leaving my children behind, my friends, and the life I had built. He knew how hard this new beginning had been, even though it was supposed to bring joy.
I bought the picture and took it home. I hung it right by the door so I would see it coming in and going out. A reminder every single day that no matter how I felt, God’s promise hadn’t changed. He was with me.
The words on that picture weren’t random. They came straight from Scripture, from Matthew 28:20. It’s the very last thing Jesus said to His disciples before He returned to heaven. He told them, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Those words weren’t just meant for the disciples standing there at the time. They are meant for all of us who follow Him. In those lonely months, when I felt forgotten, invisible, and unsure of what my future would look like, this verse reminded me of a truth I needed to hold onto, I was not alone, and I would never be alone. Not in a pandemic. Not in a new state. Not even in my own tears. His words carried a promise to me, just as much as they did to them.
I began to see that joy isn’t always found in new friendships or busy calendars. Sometimes joy looks like a simple picture hanging by the door, reminding me that God’s presence is always with me. I started paying attention to the small ways joy was already around me. On my walks through the parks, I noticed flowers I hadn’t seen before, vines climbing where I didn’t expect, and little details in nature that seemed forgotten. Creation itself reminded me of God’s beauty and care. During those lonely times, I sensed Him telling me “I’m here. If you look for me, you will find me.” So, I started looking. And when I looked, I found Him, not just in big moments, but in small one, everywhere I turned.
If you’re in a season where joy feels hard to find, I want to remind you, you are not alone. God’s presence is with you, right where you are. Sometimes the smallest moments hold the greatest reminders. Keep looking. Keep expecting. You’ll find Him there.
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13)