Finding God Winks in Healing and Letting Go

One practice that has gently reshaped my days is learning to look for what I call “God winks.” They aren’t always loud or dramatic—most of the time, they’re quiet, almost easy to miss. A timely text, a song that speaks directly to my heart, a stranger’s kindness, or a moment of peace that doesn’t quite make sense. These small reminders show me that God is present, attentive, and walking with me even in the ordinary. When life feels heavy or uncertain, looking for God winks helps me slow down, shift my focus, and recognize that He is still working—often in ways I didn’t expect, but always in ways I need.

New Connections in a Season of Healing

New connections have been very important in my life this year, especially in a season where healing required me to let go of what once felt familiar. Letting go wasn’t easy—it meant releasing relationships, expectations, and versions of life I thought would last forever. But in the space that followed, God began to place new people in my path. These connections didn’t replace what was lost; they supported what was healing. They reminded me that growth often comes after surrender, and that God is faithful to meet us in the empty spaces we’re afraid to face.

Each new connection felt like a quiet God wink—evidence that letting go isn’t the end of the story, but the beginning of something restored.

Scripture Reflection

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

— Isaiah 43:19

This verse reminds me that God often brings renewal not by returning us to what was, but by gently leading us into what’s next—inviting us to trust Him even when the path feels unfamiliar.

Closing Prayer

God, thank You for meeting me in the spaces where I’ve had to let go. Thank You for the healing You bring, even when it feels slow and uncertain. Help me trust You with what I release and remain open to the new connections You place in my life. Teach me to recognize Your presence in the small moments, the God winks that remind me I am never alone. Continue to restore what has been wounded, and guide me forward with grace, courage, and hope.

Amen.

—Wendy