John 15:11 — I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow!

When I turned eight, my mom hosted a sleepover that, to my little heart, felt like the event of the year.

We didn’t have decorations or matching pajamas or a color-coded plan. What we had was a popcorn bowl the size of a sink and sleeping bags piled so high you couldn’t even see the carpet.

We stayed up way too late giggling and ate mountains of popcorn. Someone tried to braid hair. Someone else turned a flashlight into a spotlight and declared it was time for a talent show—one that ended in thunderous applause and absolutely zero talent.

I laughed so hard my face hurt.

And my mom? She stayed in the background, quietly watching like we were her favorite show… one she already knew by heart but still wanted to rewatch.

She kept the popcorn coming, refolded blankets we knocked over, and never once told us to quiet down. Not even when we absolutely should have. She just wanted us to enjoy it.

It’s one of my favorite memories. Not because it was extravagant, but because it wasn’t. It was simple and full. Joyful and messy. It’s the kind of memory that sinks deep into your bones and keeps resurfacing when you need it most.

Back then, I didn’t have the words for it. But I see it clearly now: my mom wasn’t just throwing a party. She was giving us a place to belong. A space to be kids.

Looking back, I think God does that too.

He shows up in rooms we almost overlook, in laughter that bubbles up unexpectedly, and in the people who keep refilling our bowls, folding our blankets, and loving us without making a fuss.

So, if He has felt far away lately, do not wait for it to look like something grand. It might already be here.

You can see His goodness all around. It is there in the presence of someone who loves you, the noise of good company, or the touch of sticky hands passing a bowl of popcorn.

God’s goodness is not distant. He is near.