A couple of weeks ago, I was on my way to meet some sweet sisters in Christ for Sunday afternoon prayer and fellowship in the park. As I got dressed, I felt unusually aware of what I was choosing to wear. It was a casual get-together with friends I knew well — no need to dress up or plan an outfit for Instagram. Still, I felt the Lord nudging me to add a little evangelistic flair to my style.
I settled on an oatmeal t-shirt featuring a sketch of the Pietà, paired with faded high-waisted shorts, scrunched patterned socks, and oatmeal sneakers. I added gold jewelry — a dark gold medal of Our Lady of Fátima with light pink beads, and simple gold hoops discreetly engraved with the name “Jesus.” I glanced in the mirror, wondering if I looked cute or like a trendy toddler. Either way, I felt comfortable and, most importantly, like myself.
I popped in my AirPods and set off down the avenue, humming along to the latest Maverick City Music. As I walked, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I turned around and found myself face-to-face with deep brown eyes and a confident smile. A young man, about my age, greeted me.
“Hello, how are you?” he said.
In the span of five seconds, my brain flooded with thoughts.
Do I know him? No… but wow, he’s cute. Is this real life? Did I just fall into a rom-com?
“Hi! Umm… I’m good, thanks. Can I help you?” I asked, slightly flustered but smiling.
He smiled back, glanced at the ground with mock shyness, then met my gaze directly. “My name is Sergio. I was just walking by, and I saw you… and you are very beautiful. I thought I’d introduce myself and see if you’d like to grab a drink.”
Flattered by his boldness, I introduced myself but glanced at my watch. I had plans in 15 minutes and didn’t know this guy. But wow — confidence is attractive.
“Well, Sergio, I’m actually on my way to meet friends for Bible study and prayer. But you can walk with me for the next ten minutes if you’d like,” I offered.
We exchanged small talk, but I grew impatient. I’m not one for surface-level conversations.
“So, what are you doing with your life, Sergio?” I asked abruptly.
His brow furrowed as if unsure he heard me right. “What do you mean?”
I grinned. “I mean… you’ve got one life. What are you passionate about? What excites you?”
He laughed, clearly caught off guard. Most people don’t ask such questions — especially not five minutes after meeting. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m still figuring things out.” Then, after a beat, “So… how about that drink later?”
I hesitated. Holy Spirit, help.
I gazed at the passing cars, feeling the wind brush against my earrings. It was one of those moments when words just poured out — clearly not my own.
“Well, Sergio, I’d have a drink with you… but you need to know something. I believe in God. Like really believe in God. He’s my Father, and I’m His daughter. I practice my faith every day. I can’t live without Jesus. I’m wearing a shirt with Him on it. My necklace? That’s His mom. My earrings say His name. I love God, and I live my life for Him — not because I have to, but because I want to.” I paused and met his gaze. “I don’t know where you stand with faith, but that’s who I am. I need you to know that upfront.”
He stopped abruptly. “You mean I can’t have sex with you unless I believe in God?”
I laughed. “No. You can’t have sex with me unless you believe in God and are my husband.”
His posture stiffened. “Yeah… don’t worry about it. Not interested.” He walked away.
I stood there, stung by the encounter but unmoved in my convictions. Yet, for reasons I can’t explain, I ran after him.
Now I was the one tapping his shoulder.
Sergio turned, surprised, but quickly averted his eyes. “I said don’t worry about it…”
I interrupted, my voice firm but shaky. “No, you listen. You’re wrong. God has big plans for your life — bigger than you can imagine. You’ll remember this moment one day when God breaks into your life. I promise.”
Sergio walked away. I’ll probably never see him again.
I don’t share this story to shame Sergio or elevate myself. I share it because it reflects the intimate, detailed nature of our Father. He sees everything — from our wardrobe choices to life’s big crossroads.
God is present in the ordinary moments — what we wear, who we encounter, the small decisions we make. And He’s there in the extraordinary ones too, when our faith is tested, and the truth in our hearts rises to the surface.
Reflecting on this encounter, I’m overwhelmed by the Father’s goodness. I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn’t momentarily flustered by dreamy brown eyes and unexpected attention. In today’s dating culture, moments like this can feel like a mirage in the desert. But amid the fluster, the Father whispered through the wind. As my earrings brushed against my skin, I remembered the name engraved on them: Jesus.
That simple reminder grounded me. The Pietà on my shirt, the Fátima medal around my neck — they were all signs pointing to the One my heart was made for.
When I’m deeply rooted in who I am — and more importantly, whose I am — I can face anything. Even if what stands before me appeals to my heart’s deepest desires, I trust that the fulfillment of those desires rests in God’s hands, not my own. He knows every longing of my heart. And in His perfect time, He will bring them to life in ways more beautiful than I could ever imagine.
This post was originally published for Radiant magazine, an online publication of Our Sunday Visitor. Since Radiant is no longer actively publishing, contributors have been invited to share their articles on other platforms.
Comments