For three weeks, I went without more than thirty minutes of rest at once. I would work endlessly, take some time to breathe, then get back to it. In my brief breaks, I would have my running to-do list building up in my mind. Physically, I was at rest. Mentally, I was thinking of more to do.

In those three weeks, I had personal situations and emotions building up. Their timing was inconvenient, though, so I would ignore them and expect them to disappear. But oh, dear. That’s not how it works. When you ignore negative thoughts, they linger and grow.

Everything I was trying to repress turned into my main focus, turning into a downward spiral of thoughts. This then brought me to a time of loneliness, discouragement and isolation.

In the midst of those days, a friend encouraged me to go downtown with our university’s evangelism club to serve the homeless community. After some convincing, I begrudgingly started walking with him to it and, just as I was about to turn around and go home, into the room.

I ended up leaving the evening emotionally refreshed after walking around and interacting with people outside of the “Corban bubble.” I was able to get out of my own head and gain some perspective through the brief exchanges we had with people as we handed them sandwiches, granola bars and water. Slowly, I was stepping back into myself as I saw other people as the valuable individuals they are.

The next morning, I took my Bible, journal and headphones to Starbucks in an attempt to pry myself from the demands of homework and give myself the mental space I needed to process. After pouring out prayers to be encouraged and seen, I was studying the Bible. A random woman put her hand on my table. I looked up in confusion, briefly made eye contact, then she smiled and walked away. Where her hand was, there was now a napkin with a note written on it:

“I love the silent statement you are making by studying the Word in such a public, busy place.”

As small and disposable as it was, it was what I needed in that moment. The note had nothing to do with my situation; it didn’t tell me what to do or give me the sage advice of a highly personalized fortune cookie, but it was a little whisper. It was a small comment saying, I see you.

For the first time in weeks, I was aware of God’s presence. That napkin brought me out of my lingering on the past and back into the moment.

I had been feeling alone. I had been frustrated, and somewhat blamed God. I demanded answers without seeking Him, then felt abandoned when I didn’t hear anything over the noise of my life.

But God was always present, even when I wasn’t. He never left. He never walked away. He was there the whole time, during my school stress, my building insecurities, my frustrations with people. He didn’t leave when I was angry. He didn’t abandon me when I needed Him.

He was there when I was prepared to spend a Friday night in my own silence, probably with the escapism of Netflix as company, and my friend dragged me out to serve. He was there when I was on the verge of tears while driving to Starbucks. He was there when I was pouring everything I had into my journal, releasing three weeks of buildup. He was there in the stranger I probably would never recognize if I were to see her ever again. He was there before I started realizing it, and He is still here.

Psalm 139:7-12 reads:

“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,’
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.”

He was there, and He is here. Always.