I Wanted a God Moment, I Got Granola


megan gahan -granola-3

“Everything in here is for you.”

She gestured to the large wooden crate resting on the rustic island. My eyes widened as I peeked inside.

Wrapped in brown paper was a freshly baked loaf of bread. Nestled beside it, a large glass jar of homemade coconut granola, a bar of dark chocolate and the most darling wire basket shaped like a hen, cradling eggs her chickens had laid that morning—light tan, pale blue, and celadon-coloured.

“Oh, and there’s yogurt and orange juice for you in the fridge. I hope you have a lovely stay!”

My host grinned as she exited the small cottage I had rented for the next two nights. It was as charming as the pictures suggested, but I had not been expecting such a welcome. Everything in the crate had been thoughtfully selected to communicate as much love and warmth as possible. I placed a pot on the stove to heat my soup and cut a generous slice of bread, slathering it with butter. Sitting at the wood table with a bowl of curried chicken soup, bread, and Wild in the Hollow, I couldn’t have been more content.

The next morning, I reluctantly shrugged off the coziness, determined to get down to business. Time on my own is scarce, and I didn’t want to waste it all on books and the most swoon-worthy granola I had ever tasted. I was alone for the first time in years. It was obvious I needed to carve out space for a God moment. I needed to allow God ample time to speak and give me direction; time to download the sparkling life plan I was sure was stored up in the heavens, just waiting for me to be open and still enough to receive it.

I drove the short distance to the ocean, preparing myself for the inevitable spiritual lightning bolt. The sky was bright and clear, the wind bracing. I zipped my yellow windbreaker up to my chin, and soldiered over the rocks to sit on one of the hundreds of logs littering the beach.

Digging my old runners into the sand, I started to pray. Then I stopped in case I was missing The Voice because my voice was in the way. I drew swirls in the sand with a stick as I watched the white caps dance in the sunlight. I listened for holy whispers. I prayed again, in case my earlier prayers weren’t enough. I asked for purpose and vision and calling. I asked for a thought, or maybe an idea. I asked for a measly word.


The spiritual sojourner vibe I was attempting to maintain gave way to decidedly unspiritual frustration, which snowballed into anger as time dragged on. I mean, I was here. I was ready. Wasn’t this what God wanted? God was giving me nothing.

A hundred sand swirls later, I stomped my way back to the car. I couldn’t believe God hadn’t shown up.

As I turned into the narrow dirt driveway, I saw that the white lights strung around the tree had been switched on, as if in anticipation of my arrival. Looking at the ethereal globes floating in the branches softened me a bit. The chickens squawked happily at me as I walked by. When I stepped into the house, I saw the loaf on the counter, still airy and soft. It sat next to a glorious bunch of dahlias—fuchsia and sunshine yellow and soft pink—carefully arranged in an old jam jar.

I took in the beauty and life around me, completely overwhelmed. The warmth I felt when I first arrived washed over me once more. I exhaled, long and slow, and padded to the kitchen to fill the kettle. And in that ridiculously ordinary moment, I heard this:

Sometimes it isn’t about a lightning bolt or a grand plan or a perfectly orchestrated spiritual epiphany. Sometimes it’s about thick slices of bread and bouquets of flowers and yogurt in the fridge. Because this specific kind of beauty is what connects you to me, and creates a thin place between us. I have been all around you this whole time. I am in the eggs and the twinkle lights and the cheerful owner. I am in the lilting whistle of the kettle. I am in the wild wind and the restless ocean and the crisp sheets. This is how I communicate with you.

Because I know you.
Settle in with me. Rest.

So I carved another too-big slice. Lit a candle. Curled up under the covers with a book, pausing every so often to delight at the lights outside my window. I stopped telling God to show up the way I thought he was supposed to. I stopped anxiously waiting for my download of The Master Plan. I let God show up the way he wanted to. In dahlias and abandoned beaches and granola.

Megan Gahan
After over a decade in the fitness industry, Megan now spends her days chasing two pint-sized tornadoes disguised as little boys. By night, she is a writer and editor for SheLoves. A proper Canadian, Megan can often be found in the woods or at Tim Hortons. She writes at megangahan.com.
Megan Gahan
Megan Gahan

Latest posts by Megan Gahan (see all)

Megan Gahan
  • Tammy Chase Whitney

    I love that God speaks to us through the beauty of the ordinary. So often we miss The Kingdom because we are overlooking it! Thank you so much for sharing. Your writing is lovely and took me right there!

    • Megan Gahan

      What a wonderful compliment, Tammy. Thank you so much for sharing your kind words and thoughts here. Much love

  • How wonderful that God met you there in the presence of granola and twinkle lights. He knows our love language better than we know ourselves.

    • Megan Gahan

      He truly does! And thank you for being the first friendly face I saw on my post this morning. I so appreciate you, Michele!

  • Stacey Pardoe

    I connected with this so deeply, Megan. When I find a rare day – or hour – to slip away from the little ones and seek God, I generally find myself on some rocky shoreline or in some quiet piece of woods asking him for a Word or a whisper. More often than not, he doesn’t snow up how I expect. When I want a whisper to my soul, I often get a nudge to open the Bible on my lap. Just two days ago, walking down a blustery dirt road in search of him, I was reminded to look for beauty and connect with him through the beauty of his goodness all around me: the blanket of white over a frozen swamp, my comfortable running shoes carrying me over the snow-packed earth, a tuft of white on the head of a thistle plant. Your post echoed the same thing he’s been showing me lately. Thank you for sharing!

    • Megan Gahan

      Wow, I love hearing about your experience Stacey. Thank you so much for taking the time to share it in this place.

  • I love this, Meg! I had 2 nights to myself last year (glorious!!) and had big plans for writing and nature and all the sweet holy moments. I started and finished a book in bed in one afternoon – something I hadn’t done in years. It’s not glamorous but it was exactly what I needed in that moment. And I suppose that’s what holiness is, right? Remembering our needs are perfectly met. Thank you for this reminder.

    • ” that’s what holiness is, right? Remembering our needs are perfectly met.” Ooh that’s PERFECT.

      • Megan Gahan

        Right? Amazing.

    • Megan Gahan

      You summed up this post so eloquently, Annie! Thank you for your encouragement. It means so much 🙂

  • I love this so deeply. Thank you for guiding us to a deeper understanding of how God shows up!

    • Megan Gahan

      Thanks so much Nicole <3

  • Helene Burns

    So beautiful. Love you so much. Happy New Year lovely xoxo

    • Megan Gahan

      Same to you, Helen! And thank you (as always) for you heartfelt encouragement. It means so very much.

  • sandyhay

    It’s that time year for resolutions…big changes right? No. Sit with God, walk with God, breathe in and out. Settle in..perfect words. Thanks Meg . Happy New Year 🙂

    • Megan Gahan

      I love how you summed that up Sandy. I so appreciate you. Blessing over you and your family this year <3

  • A very good reminder. Especially for this season in my life where I don’t feel I’m hearing God much at all

    • Megan Gahan

      I relate so well to that season, Juanita. You’re in good company here. Much love.

  • Morgan Wolf

    I often wonder how much I miss of what the Holy Spirit is saying to me because I am waiting to craft either a perfect moment in which to receive it, or because I am only interested in hearing about certain things.

    • Megan Gahan

      I can only answer for myself, but I’m pretty sure I miss a LOT! I’m trying to change that though 🙂 Thanks so much for taking the time to read and comment Morgan. Much love.

  • Elisabeth Allen

    So true!! He shows up how we need, not how we expect. I understand trying to force some wonderful BIG moment with God and feeling inadequate when it doesn’t happen. But He is always faithful if we will just let go. Thank you for this!

    • Megan Gahan

      Thanks so much for reading and sharing you thoughts in this space, Elisabeth! I so appreciate it!

  • Too-big slices of bread + you = My favourite!

    I love that you made the time to do this. I love that you felt revived and loved. I love this phrase “padded to the kitchen”. I’m not sure why but I LOVE IT. Maybe because it’s an familiar sensory memory.

    Love you, Megs.