I always thought I knew how authors were inspired. One brilliant idea. A fresh blank page. A steaming cup of coffee. Crisp mountain air.
So when God started nudging me toward THE LOST HEART SONG, I almost missed it because I expected it to show up a certain way, rather than paying attention to how God often works.
This week we’ve been talking about sustained attention.
But what does life look like when attention finally finds rest, settling in the Father’s presence?
Kairos Moments
I remember learning about the Greek word, kairos, nearly 10 years ago. What I noticed in Scripture was how often the word was followed by a verb. An actionable moment for us to participate in Kingdom harvest.
I finally had a word for the moments that showed up in life, like a whispered invitation from God himself.
Like any good Sherlock Holmes wannabe, I started journaling these moments and even created the My Kairos Moments Journal on Amazon so others could do the same.
But there was one kairos moment I almost missed, not because I couldn’t see it, but because I didn’t want to. It was too painful, like standing on the other side of burning hot coals, and the gift was mine only if I’d walk across them. I was used to seeing kairos moments in my joy. This one showed up in my pain.
When Gifts Breed Self-Sufficiency
Here’s my honest confession: my brain runs a million miles a minute, and I love it. I’m always running, always moving, always creating.
But even our talents can become idols when the urgency of self-ambition masquerades as ministry-based productivity without full alignment with the will of God.
That’s what I’d done: relied so deeply on my intellectual abilities that I’d silenced the part of myself God created to point me back to Him. That’s urgency disguised as productivity
Until my counselor called time out: “You’re intellectualizing everything. You have to learn to feel again.”
Now, why would I want to do that? I’m fine. So I didn’t.
That’s intellectualization disguised as emotional poise. And I was blindsided because of it.
In the blink of an eye, life had changed, and I jumped straight to blaming my heart for not calling time-out on the red flags I should clearly have seen or sensed along the way. That’s shame talk disguised as discernment.
It was my ministry coach, Miriam, whose assignment finally broke through: choose a Psalm of lament. Pray it. Sing it. Write your own. Let it be messy. Let it be honest. Find someone to share it with.
I was out of my element, so I did what I do best. I got busy:
I joined a grief group.
I shared my trauma.
I read all I could about codependency.
Yet one to-do on the list sat unaccomplished: find a Psalm.
When I finally stumbled upon Psalm 55, it was as if my eyes were opened, the way the blind man’s were in Mark 8:22-25, only instead of seeing trees for men, I saw puzzle pieces in the honest emotional expression.
David wrote Psalm 55 roughly three thousand years ago, yet it read like it had been lifted straight from my own thoughts that week: Restless. Afraid. Betrayed from within his own house. I read it over and over, tears staining the page.
I pulled out a piece of parchment paper and started mapping the Psalms David wrote. The discovery took me to depths I could never have imagined. It was all there. Every emotion: Anger. Fear. Grief. Hurt. Loneliness. Shame. Guilt.
Every single Psalm I mapped didn’t stay in that emotion. Every one was a mini-story arc: confession (beginning), struggle (middle), and rest at the foot of the throne (end).
In the weeks that followed, it was as if the scattered pieces began to glow across verses, songs, conversations, and stories, forming a pattern I hadn’t known I was looking for.
Paying Attention to Life’s Little Catalysts
There’s a recent social media trend where people highlight notable moments in life, as if encouraging their former selves not to miss them. If I were to write a note to my past self, I’d say, “In 2023, your coach will ask you to write your own Psalm of Lament. Pay attention to the patterns. And don’t laugh when God invites you to write novels.”
That’s how Genevieve “Evie” Carter was born. She was me, 15 years prior. High-performing, approval-seeking, emotionally detached. But like me, she’d be uncomfortable in the silence and unsettled by emotion, so she’d find a way to keep moving, stay busy, and be productive.
So, like any good scavenger hunt that carries a moral theme, I wove the journey from emotional detachment to emotional healing into a mystery: a hunt for King David’s lost song, the one sung and danced before the Ark of the Covenant, that would also uncover the part of her heart she silenced years ago, if she let it.
Urgency kept me busy. Shame kept me quiet. Intellectualizing kept me safe, three steps removed from the very kairos moment I couldn’t afford to miss.
Notice Your Kairos Moments
I want to share a few things I learned on my own journey and things you’ll watch Evie learn on hers too in THE LOST HEART SONG, because I anticipate they’ll be useful in your daily moments too.
· Notice it · What’s the nudge you’ve felt more than once this month? A verse that keeps resurfacing. A song stuck on repeat. A friend who said the same thing your spouse said last week. Maybe that’s not a coincidence but a God-incidence that He’s refusing to let you miss.
· Name it · God is known to use what the world calls foolish to accomplish His greatest breakthroughs (see 1 Corinthians 1:27). Don’t let urgency, shame, or your own intellect talk you out of what you’re noticing. Urgency will call it a distraction to slow down. Shame will call it weak to pay attention to your feelings. Your intellect will call it a coincidence worth explaining away. Call it what it actually is instead.
· Nurture it · You don’t need a decade of clues to recognize a kairos moment. They show up nearly every day. You just need to stop rushing past them long enough to learn to sit with them in His presence. Don’t let the distractions talk you into marking everything else off the to-do list before sitting with the most important thing. What is your Psalm 55 moment?
My Mountain Retreat
While I do love a good writing retreat in the mountains every few months, it looks different. It’s not always words flowing from my keyboard faster than I can type. More often than not, it’s me opening my journal as I sit with the Lord and pray over the kairos moments from the last several months. In those moments of stillness, my attention is most attuned to Him, and He gives the most beautiful story ideas when my heart slows down long enough to listen.
Wherever you are today, I’d bet you have a kairos moment sitting in front of you too, quite possibly disguised as something else entirely. You don’t need a mountain for that. You just need to stop long enough to notice it’s there.
Kairos Moments Scripture Study
Awesome! One of the few articles I have ever seen on "kairos" moments. I hope to write about them soon thanks to your article's nudge! Thank you!