The Lord’s Hand on Your Shoulder

I write in a little corner surrounded by windows.

It overlooks the trees on our property, and honestly, it is my favorite place in the world to be. Morning light spills across my desk. Rain taps softly against the glass some afternoons. The breeze sneaks through when the windows are cracked open just enough. Birds chatter like they own the place.

It is peaceful there.

And behind me, almost always, is Eros.

She has claimed the chair near my desk as her throne. She sleeps while I write, occasionally lifting her head just to make sure I have not disappeared without permission. Every now and then, I feel a soft nuzzle against my hair while I am lost somewhere between prayer and a paragraph.

Eros turns ten this year, and after all this time, she still reaches for me like trust is the most natural thing in the world.

Recently, while I was writing, I felt the gentlest little paw rest on my shoulder.

Not claws. Not attention-seeking chaos. Just a soft touch.

A reassurance.

Maybe for her. Maybe for me.

As if she needed to remind herself that I was still there.

Or maybe I needed reminding that I was not alone.

And for some reason, tears filled my eyes the moment it happened.

Funny how God can use the smallest things to reach straight into your heart.

It made me think about the way the Lord moves through our lives. Not always with thunder. Not always with dramatic moments that shake the ground beneath us.

Sometimes His presence comes quietly.

A whisper in your spirit. A sudden peace during a hard season. Strength you cannot explain. Comfort arriving when your heart feels threadbare.

Sometimes it feels exactly like a hand resting gently on your shoulder.

Just enough to remind you:

I am here.

The world feels heavy sometimes. Lonely too, if we are honest about it. Even surrounded by people, many of us quietly carry burdens nobody sees.

But God never intended for us to walk through this life alone.

That simple little paw on my shoulder reminded me of something my soul already knew.

Love reassures. Presence comforts. Trust connects us.

And when you place your trust in the Lord, fully and completely, you never walk alone again.

Not through grief. Not through uncertainty. Not through fear. Not through the long nights where your thoughts keep circling like restless birds.

He stays.

Steady. Faithful. Present.

A hand on your shoulder when you need it most.

Maybe that is one reason this moment touched me so deeply.

Both of our girls are rescue cats.

Eros was abandoned with her siblings at an apartment complex when she was tiny. My son found them and bottle-fed them until they were strong enough to survive.

Our other sweet girl, Cleo, came from Fierce Love Rescue, a rescue doing beautiful work helping abandoned and vulnerable animals find safe homes and people to love them.

There is something sacred about rescue.

About being chosen. About being cared for. About learning to trust again after being left behind.

Honestly, maybe we are not so different from them after all.

Maybe that is what grace looks like sometimes.

Love staying.

And sometimes, if we are paying attention, the Lord reminds us we are never alone through the softest touch imaginable.

Even one wrapped in fur and whiskers.

With gratitude for gentle reminders,

Lynn