The Perfect Beginning

Walking with God

In the beginning, there was only God: no ticking clock, no swirling galaxies, just Him. From the silence, He spoke. Light pierced the darkness. Waters shifted. Land rose. Trees, birds, stars, each one alive, intentional, designed.

And then something even more intimate happened. God stooped down and shaped Adam, not by command, but by touch. Then Eve, formed from Adam’s side, was tenderly crafted. He did not simply place them in a perfect world; He walked with them. In the cool garden breeze, He was present, conversational, near.

Life was meant to be fully lived, alive, known, and deeply connected with the Creator. Yet God placed a choice before them. Love cannot be forced; it must be chosen by those who want it.

Centuries later, others made that same choice. George Müller, once careless and self-indulgent, met Christ and began to live as though God was present in every detail. When he opened orphanages in Bristol, he resolved never to ask anyone for money. Every need would go to God. One morning, with no food left, he gathered the children to pray. They thanked God for the meal they did not yet have. Then came a knock: a baker, stirred in the night to bake extra bread. Soon after, a milkman, whose cart had broken outside the orphanage, offered all his milk. Bread. Milk. God. That was Müller’s daily walk, not loud, but steady, faithful, trusting.

From a young age, I have seen the same quiet faith in my own home. My parents made prayer, their time with God, their top priority, devoting their moments to Him above all else. Before greeting each other, before meals, even before starting the car, they prayed. They prayed when leaving the house and offered thanks upon their return. The secret to my mother’s sought-after cooking? Her prayer before she began to cook.

Through the years, I have seen God honour that dedication. He walked with them in highs and lows, provided for their needs, protected them from harm, and guided them through life’s uncertainties. Life was not perfect, but as their daughter, I saw Him at work: steadfast, faithful, present. People who crossed their paths often noticed the quiet faith that guided them.

God’s presence remains visible in gentle nudges, unexpected provisions, comforting words, and quiet moments of grace. He is not distant. He walks with us in our routines, our struggles, and the hidden corners of our lives.

The same God who walked in Eden, who answered George Müller’s prayers, and who has been faithful to my parents, continues to walk with us.

Always near. Always present. Always attentive. Always loving.

Reflection Question:

What would change if you believed God cared about the tiniest details of your day?

What does it mean for you to walk with God, not just in belief, but in every step of your ordinary life?

Prayer:

Lord, You created the heavens, and yet You care about my daily steps. Teach me to walk with You, not just in the big moments, but in the quiet, everyday ones. Help me recognize Your voice, trust Your presence, and live like You are truly with me because You are. Amen.