Rhythms & Roots · Letters to the Churches
Seeing What God Is Doing (Even Here)
By Donnie Hinshaw · May 2, 2026
“May God be gracious to us and bless us
and make His face to shine upon us,
that Your way may be known on earth,
Your saving power among all nations.”
— Psalm 67:1–2 (ESV)
Bottom Line
God is at work—even here.
But we only see it if we’re paying attention.
The Moment
The last couple of days have been filled with uncertainty.
Hospital rooms.
Waiting.
Monitors.
Conversations that feel both urgent and unfinished.
And yet—somehow—there has also been joy.
These weren’t Scriptures I went searching for in the moment.
They were simply part of my daily reading for the day.
I found myself in Book of Numbers 8–9, Psalm 67, and Gospel of John 7—while as a church we continue walking through the Sermon on the Mount.
Different texts.
Different moments.
But one invitation:
Learn to see.
A Room Full of People… and Something More
Yesterday, it was just my dad and me.
We waited for hours—wondering if he would be moved to a permanent room. With each passing shift came new nurses, new faces, new stories.
And we met each one with curiosity.
A young nurse, just a couple years in.
Ritchie, who had been serving since my own days at UCHealth over 25 years ago.
A nurse I nicknamed “Springfield,” who kept coming back—not just to check vitals, but to connect.
We laughed.
We listened.
We heard about his family, his story, his calling, even a new relationship he was clearly excited about.
And my dad—right in the middle of uncertainty—became a source of joy.
He made the nurses laugh.
The doctors laugh.
The residents, fellows—even the janitorial staff.
People lingered.
They returned.
Not because of the diagnosis—
but because of the presence.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, this thought settled in:
How is it that I can meet more than 20 people in one night
and entrust my father’s life to them?
It’s a strange kind of surrender.
Not blind—but necessary.
Not careless—but deeply human.
Because in moments like this, we are reminded:
We are always more dependent than we think we are.
The Connection
In Numbers 8, the lamps are positioned to shine forward.
In Psalm 67, we are invited to receive God’s blessing in such a way that His light is seen through us.
In John 7, Jesus calls us beyond surface-level seeing into deeper discernment.
And in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus keeps bringing everything back to the heart.
What I witnessed in that hospital room was this:
God’s light doesn’t wait for perfect conditions.
It shows up:
in waiting rooms
in long nights
in uncertain diagnoses
And sometimes, it shines most clearly
through a man who chooses joy
when he has every reason not to.
The Lens
At one point, I picked up my camera.
No permission.
No overthinking.
This was my dad.
This was his story.
This was our story.
And this is how I know how to tell it.
After the echocardiogram, the tech said to me:
“I was shocked you just started taking photos…
and even more shocked that the doctor didn’t say anything.
You just photographed one of the top physicians in our hospital—and he just let you.”
But that’s the thing.
When you’re paying attention, you begin to realize:
This isn’t just our story.
The Invitation
No matter what you are walking through right now—
God is not just taking you through it so you can survive.
He is doing a deeper work:
forming something in you
revealing something to you
telling a story through you
But you will only see it
if you are paying attention.
To the conversations.
To the people.
To the unexpected joy.
To the light.
Take Home
God is in the details.
And His grace is often most visible
in the places we would never choose to be.
Closing Prayer
Lord,
open our eyes to see what You are doing—
not just in the extraordinary moments,
but in the ordinary, quiet ones we often overlook.
Teach us to trust You in the waiting,
to recognize Your presence in unexpected places,
and to carry Your light into every room we enter.
Even here.
Especially here.
Amen.
Final Thought
Even in the Scriptures I didn’t choose,
God was already speaking.



