Quiet Time Series: You Were Never Left Out

I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to make sense of what God is doing—not just around me, but within me. And I’ve come to believe that some truths aren’t meant to be decoded all at once. Some are mysteries—hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to be revealed.

One of those truths stopped me in my tracks recently, during a class at our church conference:

“Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27)

I’d read that verse before, probably glossed over it dozens of times. But this time, it hit different.

Not just Christ with me. Not Christ beside me, or ahead of me.

But Christ in me.

And honestly? That felt too wild to grasp. Too intimate. Too generous.

Because if that’s true—if the Spirit of Christ actually dwells in me—then it changes everything.

Unveiling the Hidden Plan

Scripture calls this the mystery of Christ—a divine truth that was once hidden, now revealed. Paul puts it like this:

“This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body…” (Ephesians 3:6)

This wasn’t a minor update to God’s plan—it was the unveiling of a whole new way of belonging. No one was left out. Not the adopted girl from California. Not the kid from the Navy who never quite fit. Not the fans waiting outside stadiums holding lightsticks and prayers.

I used to think belonging had to be earned—through good works, spiritual discipline, or just sheer reliability. But Paul flips that. The mystery isn’t about climbing toward God. It’s about a God who climbs down into us.

Henri Nouwen once wrote:

“The great mystery of the spiritual life is that we are already loved long before we can offer or deserve anything.”

I carry that sentence in my bones now. Because the deeper I live into that truth, the more I see that I was never outside the circle. I just didn’t realize I was already standing in it.

The Plot Twist We Never Saw Coming

The mystery of Christ is also how the plan was fulfilled. Not through domination, but through surrender. Not through military strength, but through a crucified Messiah.

Paul writes:

“None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” (1 Corinthians 2:8)

God’s wisdom showed up in a form the world didn’t recognize—and still doesn’t.

I felt this tension just the other night, driving alone to Anaheim in my electric car. I’d charged it at work, but I still felt anxious about the battery. I remember praying for traffic—not to avoid it, but to allow regenerative braking so I wouldn’t run out of charge. That’s how low I was running. Not just the car. Me, too.

Then, right as my worry crested, I looked up—and there they were. Fireworks.

Right off the freeway. No soundtrack. No crowd. Just me and the night sky exploding in color.

“Thank You, God,” I said out loud, like a kid whispering to her Father.

That moment didn’t fix anything, but it reminded me: joy still exists.

Sometimes the mystery is in the timing. The “coincidences” that feel like divine whispers. The grace that shows up exactly when your spirit hits low power mode.

As Frederick Buechner said:

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

And sometimes, that calling is as simple as showing up. Even backstage. Even unnoticed. Even in traffic.

🔍 Questions for You to Reflect On

1. Where in your life have you felt like you were on the outside looking in? What if you were already invited—already known, already included?

2. What “small” or confusing moments now feel charged with divine significance? Could those have been invitations to trust the mystery?

3. Do you live like Christ is beside you—or do you believe He’s actually within you? What shifts when you move from external striving to internal presence?

💭 Final Thoughts: Living the Mystery

The mystery of Christ isn’t a riddle to be solved. It’s a relationship to be lived.

And it tells me this: I’m not an outsider trying to earn my place. I’m already part of the story.

So are you.

The fireworks from the freeway weren’t a miracle. But they were enough. A reminder that God’s presence doesn’t need to be loud to be true.

Sometimes He shows up not in the spotlight, but in the shadows. Not on stage, but behind the slides. Not in the thunder—but in the stillness inside your chest that whispers: You are mine. I’m already here.

So no, the mystery isn’t gone.

It’s just moved in.

And it’s calling your name.

Your Turn

Have You Ever Had a “Fireworks on the Freeway” Moment?

A time when God showed up unexpectedly—in the middle of traffic, tension, or tears?

Share it in the comments or message me. Your story might be the reminder someone else needs today. 💬

Soul Path Insights