A few years ago, after returning from a 15-day, three-destination, 3,100-mile road trip, I spent an afternoon with the Lord and my journal reliving the evidence of His power and majesty that were evident daily on our vacation.

[Photo: Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs, CO]

• I could see Him in the sun’s early rays that glowed on the glassy lake and created a daily invitation to enjoy a new beginning.
• I could see Him in the miles and miles of farm land with well-dressed crops that raised their hands in praise towards heaven.
• I could see His breath upon the windmills that stood strong and sure, moved only by the wind that turned their blades with the ease of a whisper.
• I could see Him in the mountains that cast shadows of joy onto the valleys they protected, taking pride in their role as His footstool.
• I could see His fingers painting trails of gold within secret rocks, not missing a single stroke despite their hidden place below the earth’s surface.
• I could see Him hanging each star perfectly in its place in the galaxy, as a curator adjusts a work of art on a wall before standing back and admiring the skill of the artist.
• I could hear Him in my children’s laughter as they threw back their heads with childlike abandon enjoying the thrill of a roller coaster’s surprises.

A song of truth from years past rang in my ears on a continuous loop. “My God is so BIG! So STRONG and so MIGHTY! There’s nothing my God cannot do!”

And a verse of truth blinked on and off in my mind like a neon sign reminding me that, because of what I have seen, I am without excuse.

“For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God” (Rom. 1:20 NLT).

[Photo: early morning view of Pikes Peak from Lake George, CO]

But then vacation was over. The minivan was emptied and parked in the garage like a tired horse resting in its stable after a battle. Our grand adventure melted into laundry, grocery shopping, paying bills and unpacking suitcases, and the divine dissolved into the drab.

Because surely the God who stars in creation is too big to make an appearance in our garage, right? He moves mountains; He doesn’t move pebbles. He parts seas; He doesn’t part ponds. He conquers cities; He doesn’t conquer dirt on kitchen floors. He protects nations; He doesn’t protect middle-aged suburban soccer moms. Right?

A day after arriving home, we went into the garage and discovered that one of the tires on our minivan had flat-lined. The heat ring had become visible, an indication of friction caused by driving on a deflating tire. This potentially dangerous situation demands that the tire be replaced immediately to avoid a a life-threatening blow out.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the tire. After transporting six souls across 3,100 miles of varying terrain, our tire went flat in the safety of our garage! Thank you Jesus!

In that moment, I felt as if the all of power of the Creator became so concentrated it could fit in a vial around my neck. The big, strong hands of the One who chiseled the mountains became small enough to hold my hand in His. The God who keeps the universe running became the Dad who makes sure his little girl is safe on the road.

Yes, God is big. But He is small too. Nothing is so grand that He cannot control it, but nothing is so small that He cannot care about it.

For fifteen days, I saw God show up in big and mighty ways. But in one moment, in the sad, lifeless remains of a flat tire, I saw Him show up in a personal way. And above all the other stories, that one became the one to remember.

 How has God been small enough for you recently?