She Didn’t Look Like My Healing, But She Was
When I moved back to California after my divorce, I obtained a job with a mortgage company. It was my first time working with a major bank in that kind of role. A family friend offered to help me find work. I gave him my resume, and he sent it out. That connection landed me my first job paying that kind of money for what I did. It wasn’t a management position, which was actually a blessing, I didn’t need that added pressure during a time when I was still finding my footing again. It paid well, and honestly, that was enough.
What I didn’t see coming was her.
That job introduced me to a woman who, to this day, remains one of the greatest friends and wisest advisors I’ve ever had. Her faith is completely different from mine. She is Muslim, and I’m Christian. Wild, right?
But somehow, it worked.
Not because she was pushy or tried to convert me, and not because I was looking to change either of our beliefs. It worked because she lived her faith with such integrity, such calm commitment, that it made me want to deepen my own walk with God. Her reverence for her path made me examine mine, not out of shame, but with desire. That kind of authenticity doesn’t push people away. It draws them closer.
She didn’t come from some squeaky-clean background, either. She had her own wounds. But she was mentally grounded and spiritually consistent in a way I had never been exposed to. And no matter what trauma or drama I brought to her—and I brought plenty—she didn’t flinch. She didn’t sugarcoat, and she never judged me. She simply told the truth, with patience and love.
I truly believe God sent her to me in that season because He knew I wouldn’t receive much from another Christian at that time. I had too much pain wrapped up in religion. But through her, God got to me anyway.
I’ll never forget one day when I called her sobbing. I told her I was doing all I thought scripture asked of me. I was trying. And nothing was working. I felt like God had gone silent again. No direction. No clarity. Just more weight. I told her I felt abandoned, and I didn’t know how to keep going.
She let me cry. Then she said something so gentle and still… but it hit me like thunder:
“He is answering you. You just don’t like the answer. So you think He’s not speaking. But He is.”
That moment changed something in me.
I’ve carried that sentence with me ever since. It has helped me walk through so many hard seasons—learning to listen to the answer even when I don’t like the answer.
She moved to another state not long after, and now we don’t talk as often. But when we do? It’s like no time has passed. There’s still that depth, that wisdom, that peace.
I still call her friend.
🌱 Pause & Unfold:
Have you ever had someone come into your life who didn’t look like your healing—but turned out to be exactly what you needed
Have you ever mistaken God’s silence for rejection… when it was really just a hard answer you didn’t want to hear?
