Divine Encounters in the Midst of the Hustle

Lately, I’ve been walking through life with a question that lingers in my spirit more than I care to admit:

Was that person a divine appointment?

You know what I mean — those chance meetings. The stranger on the train. The person who says something that hits just a little too close to home. The barista who unknowingly confirms the very thing you were praying about that morning. The quiet woman at the vendor table across from you who speaks life into your business when you’re silently drowning in self-doubt.

I often wonder: Was that You, Lord? Was that You trying to get a word to me in the middle of my swirling thoughts?

Because the truth is — I’ve been wrestling. Trying to scale. Trying to figure out how to compete. How to stand out. How to do something that hasn’t already been done a million times.

I find myself torn between holy ambition and holy surrender. I want to catch every opportunity, not miss one whisper from God. But I also don't want to overthink it to death. And I know myself — I can overanalyze a moment until I’ve drained all the sacred mystery out of it.

So when someone new crosses my path, I lean in.

What if this is the moment I’ve been praying for? What if this is the message wrapped in flesh and kindness, sent just for me?

It doesn’t always look grand. Sometimes it’s in the form of a compliment, a suggestion, a scripture, or a deep belly laugh that lifts the fog. Other times, it’s a pause — a stillness that gives me permission to just be.

I’m learning that not every encounter is meant to be dissected. Some are meant to be felt. Received. Held close for a little while. God doesn’t always speak in thunder — sometimes, it’s the stranger’s gentle voice that carries the thunder of heaven in the most unassuming way.

So I’m choosing to show up open.

Not desperate. Not over-eager. Just open.

I may not know the next big strategy. I may not have all the answers for how to scale or compete in this wild, saturated world of business. But what I do know is this:

God sends people. God sends moments. God sends messages.

And if I pay attention, I’ll recognize His fingerprint — even in the stranger I almost dismissed.

So, here's to the fleeting moments that carry eternal weight.
To the whispers through strangers.
To the messages we didn’t expect but desperately needed.
And to trusting that we won’t miss what’s meant for us — not even one word.