Scattered Moments
Brief reflections on faith, adversity, and the quiet places where grace appears.
Each episode of Scattered Moments is a brief journey through the unexpected classrooms where God does His deepest work — hospital rooms and sanctuaries, seasons of grief and flashes of joy, the ordinary moments where grace shows up and changes everything.
Drawing from over forty years of writing, ministry, and life in the trenches, Matt Tullos weaves together original poetry, hymn stories, Scripture, and honest reflection to remind you that even adversity, you are not alone.
New episodes every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Take heart, notice the scattered moments, and share the grace.
Scattered Moments
Axiom (Part 3): Jesus is With Me
Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.
There is one truth I come back to when life starts to unravel—when the diagnosis lands, when the conversation looms, when the darkness gets loud:
Jesus is with me.
In this episode of Scattered Moments, we slow down and return to the quiet promise at the end of the Great Commission—words we often read past, but desperately need to remember.
This isn’t about trying harder or holding it together.
It’s about waking up to what is already true.
A reflection on presence, fear, and the steady companionship of Christ in every moment.
Welcome to Scattered Moments, reflections on faith, adversity, and the quiet places where grace appears. If there is one axiom I come back to more than any other. One that I speak out loud when things get dicey, when I'm over my skis, when the diagnosis lands, when the relationship fractures, when the darkness gets loud, it's this. Jesus is with me. Not it's not over. That's good. Not if I die, I die. That helps. Those are good words. But this one goes deeper. Because when I know Jesus is with me, what else is there? What nightmare, what victory, what valley, what fire could outshine the fact that he said, Lo, I am with you always. I know low doesn't mean what I want it to mean. Technically, it means behold, pay attention, look here. But when I hear low, I think of low places. I think of valleys. I think of the moments where you can't see your way out, and he's there. Low. I don't know how this day will actually work out, but Jesus is with me. I've got to have that difficult conversation again that I always hate. But Jesus is with me. I don't know how we'll make ends meet, but Jesus is with me. I don't know how the end of my life will shake out, but Jesus is with me. And that's the secret hiding in plain sight at the end of the Great Commission. We read the whole thing. Go, make disciples, baptize, teach, and then we rush past the last line, and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. It's not our talent, it's not our intellect or our abilities, it's not our looks, thank the Lord. The secret is the traveling companion. GK Chesterton was once stopped on a London street corner by a reporter, and the reporter asked him, If the risen Christ appeared right now and stood behind you, what would you do? Chesterton winked, looked him in the eye, and said, He is. Teresa of Avila, a sixteenth-century Spanish nun who spent her life learning to pray, wrote in her interior castle, We know quite well that God is present in all that we do. Our nature is such that it makes us lose sight of that fact. But the Lord, who is near at hand, awakens it. That's the whole game. We don't conjure his presence. We wake up to it. There is no mountain, no fire, no villain, no diagnosis, no setback, no conflict that I can't navigate, not because of who I am, but because of the one who is with me. So when the day comes apart, and it will, say it out loud. Whisper it in the car to yourself. Say it when the phone rings with bad news. Say it when you feel like you're disappearing. Jesus is with me. Not as a wish, as a fact. Lo, He is. King Jesus, you said it plainly and you meant it. I am with you always. Not until it gets too hard. Not until we fail too many times. Always. Teach us to live in that always. To say your name in the dark and mean it. To stop looking for you somewhere out ahead and realize you're already there. Already with us. You're already enough. Amen. There's another scattered moment waiting for you next time. Take heart. Notice the scattered moments and share the grace.
