You Won't See What You're Not Looking For

"Be aware of your surroundings." My family has heard me say it so many times they can probably finish the sentence for me.

Perhaps it stems from my years serving as a police officer in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Being aware of your surroundings doesn't imply paranoia—it signifies attentiveness. It involves noticing when something seems off, listening for hints of deception in a conversation, and identifying warning signs before they become problems.

For instance, if a man wearing a trench coat, a hoodie pulled tight over his head, sunglasses, and a face mask sits down beside you at Chick-fil-A in the middle of August, that's probably not the time to ignore your instincts. Your brain should be screaming, "Something here doesn't make sense!" As the old robot from Lost in Space used to say, "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!"If you're under 50, you may need to Google that reference. If you're over 50, you probably just heard the robot's voice in your head.

However, recently, I was reminded that being aware of your surroundings isn't just about noticing danger.

Sometimes it's about noticing blessings.

About a week ago, I parked my truck at Planet Fitness and started walking toward the door. That's when I saw it. A quarter. Lying in the parking lot. It looked like it had been run over more times than I could count. Judging by its condition, it had probably been there for days.

Maybe hundreds of people had walked past it. Maybe they didn't see it. Maybe they thought twenty-five cents wasn't worth bending over for. Maybe they were worried about what someone might think if they stopped to pick up a coin in a busy parking lot.

I don't know. What I do know is that I bent over, picked it up, slipped it into my pocket, and quietly said, "Thank you, Lord."

That should have been the end of the story. But it wasn't.

Later that day, I remembered that Jean needed something from Aldi. Being the amazing husband that I am, I offered to stop and pick it up for her. She immediately accepted my generous offer—which should tell you how often these opportunities come along.

I pulled into Aldi, grabbed my reusable bags, and headed for the entrance. Then it hit me. I needed a quarter for a shopping cart. And I didn't have one. Or so I thought. Suddenly I remembered the quarter. The forgotten quarter. The beat-up quarter. The quarter everyone else had walked past.

I laughed out loud. "Thank you, Lord... again."

Now if this were a Hallmark movie, that's where the credits would roll. But God wasn't finished with the quarter. A few days later, I found myself back at Aldi because this amazing husband somehow missed a few items the first time.

As I walked back to return my cart, I noticed a woman digging frantically through her purse for a quarter. I asked if she needed a cart. "Yes," she said, still searching. "Let me find a quarter for you." I smiled and handed over the cart and said, "No, that's okay. Just pass it on to someone else."

The look on her face stopped me in my tracks. It was as if someone had handed her far more than twenty-five cents. Her expression said what her words soon confirmed: "You've made my day." And that's when it hit me. The quarter was never about the quarter. It was about awareness.

Most people saw nothing of value lying in that parking lot. But God saw an opportunity. An opportunity to provide. An opportunity to remind me that He cares about the little things. An opportunity to create a moment of kindness between two strangers.

How many blessings do we miss because we're distracted? How many opportunities to encourage someone pass us by because we're in a hurry? How many reminders of God's goodness are lying right in front of us while we're looking somewhere else?

The older I get, the more convinced I become that God often whispers through ordinary moments. A quarter in a parking lot. A timely conversation. An unexpected text. A door that opens at exactly the right moment.

The question is not whether God is working around us. The question is whether we're paying attention. Because sometimes the difference between an ordinary day and a divine appointment is simply being aware enough to notice the quarter everyone else walked past.

As we get older, we learn that life's greatest treasures rarely come with a big price tag. More often, they're found in the small blessings, quiet moments, and unexpected reminders that God is closer than we think.