Everyday people meeting God every day
What does it really look like to walk with the Holy Spirit in our daily, ordinary lives? What does it look like on Monday in the quiet minutes after the alarm goes off, or in the commute, or the morning coffee, or amongst the stress of the inbox, and the hum of dishes and dinner.
We recently asked people in our community to share how they’ve been practising the presence of God in the flow of everyday life. What we heard was not a list of perfect habits or lofty ideals, but stories—real, honest, beautiful stories—of how the Holy Spirit is gently, faithfully present in the middle of it all.
For some, it starts the moment the day begins. Eleanor shared how she’s been carving out her first waking moments to sit with a hot drink and still her soul: “That I might know who he is and who I am in Him.” She’s also discovered the power of breath prayer—linking scripture with the rhythm of breathing in and out. “As oxygen fills my lungs, my soul settles. I become aware of how close God is.”
Michelle echoed this with her own rhythm of stillness: “My first activity (with a coffee, a candle, and sometimes the company of my dog) of every day is to seek God’s Spirit... asking him to freshly fill every part of my being.” This time, she says, doesn’t stay confined to the morning. “My time first in the morning in God’s Spirit kind of has a sequel running during the day.”
Jiwan, navigating life with small children and many responsibilities, reflected on the need for simplicity and sustainability: “Having a simple, achievable daily practice has been the difference between intending to do something and actually doing it.” For him, it’s morning prayer—walking straight into the lounge, lighting a candle, slowly praying through the Lord’s Prayer, and listening. Even something as practical as the first 10 minutes at work, reading scripture and committing the day to God in writing, becomes a moment of sacred intention.
Others are finding God in motion and observance. Natalie, for instance, begins each day with a walk. “Being in nature—seeing trees, water—first thing always makes me feel close to the Spirit and aware of His presence.” She’s learning to let every emotion become a point of connection: “When I feel joy, I try to pray and say thank you. When I’m angry, I invite the Spirit to help me breathe and surrender.” What used to feel like an emotional battlefield has become “a portal of connection with the Spirit... a relationship of everyday honesty, rather than one of pretence.”
For some, walking with the Spirit is anchored in small tactile reminders. Mark keeps a prayer rope, incense, and a prayer book on his home office desk—“quiet icons and reminders” that turn his desk into a sacred space. “The incense rises like prayer, the rope marks the rhythm, and the book gives me the words,” he explained. “When I can, I begin the morning alone outside with coffee, a prayer book, and my prayer rope—as the sun rises.” In that stillness, surrounded by silence and sky, he says, “Holding them in my hands, reciting prayers passed down through generations, I’m grounded in the shared experience of the Church and in my own rhythm of faith within it.” In those moments, Mark says, “I feel most present with the Spirit of the Lord.”
Ludwig has taken a similarly creative approach. After reading The Practice of the Presence of God, he began using short breath prayers as his passphrases to unlock devices. Instead of random symbols, he types something like “Come Lord Jesus, come.” It’s a way to pause and connect with God each time he logs on. “It’s like a modern version of ‘praying without ceasing’—one login at a time.”
Others are finding connection in silence and attentiveness. Julia described how moments of stillness have become an act of spiritual discipline, a way of aligning herself with what is already true. “It’s less about feeling something and more about trusting and reminding myself of what God has promised: that His Spirit is my Helper, Comforter, and Guide.” Using the Lectio 365 app, she takes small pauses throughout the day—morning, midday, evening—to re-centre and remember.
Sarah, too, spoke of the value in quiet. Though she loves music, she’s intentionally begun leaving small pockets of her day in silence. “I thought this had to look like a powerful feeling or audible voice, but for me, it’s a subtle peace that comes when I get slow, get quiet, and just allow myself to feel His peace and wisdom.” Evenings often become her time for scripture, devotionals, or spiritual reflection.
Chris summed it up beautifully with a quote from The Message translation of Romans 12: “Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.” That’s how he’s trying to live—with little prayers whispered throughout the day: “Jesus I love you... Holy Spirit lead me.” And on the days when it’s hard? “Father forgive me, help me, for I am weak and in need of your love and strength.”
In all these stories, there’s no single formula. Just a shared longing to be aware, to be open, to be led by the Spirit who is already near. These aren’t perhaps grand spiritual acts; they’re small, repeated invitations. Inhaling and exhaling. Listening and whispering. Walking and remembering. Holding and reciting. Watching and waiting.
This is what it looks like for everyday people to meet with God every day.