On Sunday, I felt the Spirit speak through music. As I sat with it later, I knew it was something I didn’t want to rush past. It felt like a message meant to stay with me.
This morning, I woke up wondering: Where will I hear the Spirit today?
Today, I heard it in my hesitation.
I was at the car wash, taking advantage of what felt like an early spring day. I decided to vacuum out my car, taking a little extra time. As I worked, a car pulled up next to me. I glanced over—and then looked again.
The driver, an older woman, was carefully navigating a walker.
I felt the immediate nudge to step in and help. But just as quickly, hesitation followed. I wondered if I was misreading the situation. Maybe the walker belonged to someone else. Maybe I would be interrupting. Maybe I would get it wrong.
So I stayed where I was.
I went back to focusing on the crumbs under the car seat, but I couldn’t quite shake what I had seen. When I looked again, she was clearly making her way toward the vacuum which seemed positioned just slightly higher than seemed comfortable to reach.
We made eye contact.
She smiled and nodded, as if to say, “I’m okay.”
I smiled back and gave a small wave. I put my vacuum away, still feeling the quiet tension within me—the desire to help, and the equal desire to respect her independence.
As I pulled forward toward the wash line, I noticed she was pulling hard against the suction of the vacuum hose.
I paused and watched as she worked through it. When the hose finally released, there was a small but real sense of victory.
She turned toward me. Our eyes met again.
I rolled down my window and said, “Way to go—that is some serious suction.”
She laughed. “I won.”
“You sure did,” I said.
“God bless you,” she replied.
“And may He bless you with abundance,” I answered.
And that was it—a moment, a smile, a blessing exchanged between two people who would likely never meet again.
As I drove through the car wash, I found myself wondering why I had hesitated. Why I hadn’t stepped in more directly. Why I didn’t offer help in a clearer way.
But then I realized something.
The Spirit wasn’t only in the action I considered—it was in the hesitation itself.
In the pause.
In the noticing.
In the shared humanity that didn’t require fixing, only presence.
There was hesitation in me to offer, and perhaps hesitation in her to receive. And yet, in that space, something still happened. Something good. Something meaningful.
I was reminded of the goodness of others. The quiet strength people carry. The importance of slowing down long enough to truly see one another.
I can imagine how I might respond differently next time. But I also carry this with me:
Sometimes the Spirit speaks not in what we do, but in how we pause long enough to listen.
And for that, I am grateful.
Where have you felt hesitation—and what might it be trying to teach you?
