When I was child I had a particularly poignant moment with a blank piece of notebook paper. We have so many moments, conversations, and stories throughout our life. Those we still remember are memorable. This was one of those.

I contemplated things the Baptist church couldn’t answer, or maybe I wasn’t content with their answers. One night my seven-year old self was having a moment with God. I decided to place a piece of notebook paper on my yellow beanbag. I asked God, “If you’re really real, then move this paper by the time I wake up.” That would be my proof.

Morning came. I peeked out of the covers. The paper was in the exact same position I had placed it the night before. I was devastated. Not even the mist from my humidifier budged that lithe piece of paper.

I still believed in God and the angelic realm. That was unshakeable I realize in hindsight. Instead, I was just mad, confused, and disappointed. Why couldn’t he just do this one thing? Why couldn’t he just do this one thing for me? Am I not powerful enough or important enough for him to do this one little itty-bitty thing?

I’m sure most of you have had similar exchanges with God where much bigger things were at stake than a piece of paper.

I thought about that night many times well into adulthood. I continued to ask the same questions, but to different people and in different situations. Our relationship with God becomes a mirror of everything in our life.

If only that piece of paper had moved, I would feel more empowered.

If only that piece of paper had moved, I could trust that things would work out for me.

I replayed these tapes countless times. That trivial moment precipitated a distrust in my core belief system. If God wouldn’t do it, I guess I’ll have to.

I finally resolved the incident as a sign that I would have had a puffed-up sense of ego had it moved. I would have probably moved on to spoons and peoples’ minds from there. That’s what I told myself. It worked.

Recently, I was meditating and feeling connected to Source. And then I had a Circa-Age-7-Moment and thought I wish I had proof that I was really communicating with the Divine. That led me to think about a kindred friend of mine who is often searching for proof of spiritual concepts. Like me, she is an old soul with a busy mind. We’ll text halfway across the globe with new spiritual thoughts and discoveries.

And then I thought about the word proof. I saw the play when it came out on Broadway with Mary-Louise Parker. And then I remembered! I couldn’t believe I had forgotten… My friend and I met in acting class… Proof was the play we were assigned… sisters of course. It couldn’t have been better scripted, probably replaying a past life.

That orchestration was Proof.

So is the fact that hot water fills my bathtub every night. Not to mention the mind-blowing synchronicities of meeting the people I have in the City of Angels. And then there’s those days when the wind blows an affirmation I have written, but no window was open. And the countless blessings I encounter everyday, from good health to being able to do the work I love. I could go on and on.

I was looking for proof, now all I see is miracles.

They happen when you least expect them. And in ways you can never imagine.

If you look for proof, you will not get it. In the looking is the lack thereof. The Divine will always remain mysterious. That is the only guarantee.