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.
Three Types of Episodes:
Scattered Moments: Brief Reflections on Faith, Adversity and the Quiet Places
Guided Meditations: Opportunities to Encounter God through Meditation
Moments Almanac: Released Every Morning, Reflecting on the Meaning of Each Day,
Take heart, notice the scattered moments, and share the grace.
Scattered Moments
The Things that Didn't Happen
Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.
Some of God's greatest gifts arrive disguised as disappointments.
In this deeply personal episode of Scattered Moments, we offer a prayer of gratitude—not for success, applause, or easy answers—but for the things that didn't happen.
The job that never came.
The promotion that never arrived.
The plans that collapsed.
The seasons of silence.
The valleys of depression.
The limitations that taught humility.
The failures that drove us back to grace.
Looking back across the years, we begin to see that many of the things we once called setbacks were actually invitations. Many of the closed doors were acts of mercy. Many of God's kindest answers sounded exactly like "No."
Join us for a reflective spoken-word meditation on God's faithfulness in both the gifts He gives and the gifts He withholds.
"Many of the things I called disasters were actually invitations. Many of the things I called setbacks were mercies in disguise."
Take care, notice the scattered moments, and share the grace. 🌿
#ScatteredMoments #ChristianMeditation #Gratitude #FaithJourney #GodsGrace #SpokenWord #ChristianPodcast #Devotional #TrustGod #Thanksgiving #SpiritualFormation #PrayerLife
Hello and welcome to Scattered Moments. These are brief reflections on faith, adversity, and the quiet places where grace appears. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, I thank you greatly. Today I'm grateful for the things I once begged you to change, but you didn't. I'm grateful for the closed doors, for the unanswered prayers, for the detours, for the delays, for all the roads that ended in dead ends, for all the maps that turned out wrong. Thank you for that job I didn't get in 2007. At the time, it felt like a huge loss. It felt like a door slammed shut. But had that door opened, I might never have learned that perseverance is holier than escape. I might have spent the rest of my life searching for the nearest off-ramp every time somebody or something got uncomfortable instead of discovering that sometimes grace is found by staying on the road. Thank you for the dark valleys of 1991 and 1996. I would have never asked for those seasons or those years again, but I would never trade them for what I found there. Because it was in that darkness that I discovered your companionship. When every light flickered off, you remained. When every answer disappeared, you stayed. I learned that the deepest wells are often dug in the driest places. Thank you for the rebukes, for the criticisms, for the misunderstandings, for the days I thought I deserved applause and instead received correction. You were rescuing me from the exhausting burden of my own importance. Thank you for the demotion. I thought you were taking something from me. Instead, you were knocking over a golden calf I had begun to call success. I called it achievement. I called it influence. I called it opportunity, but you called it by its proper name. And in your mercy, you would not let me bow down before it. Thank you for the scars, the visible ones, the invisible ones. The reminders that I am not self-made, not self-sufficient, not self-saving. Thank you for dyslexia. Thank you for attention that wanders. Thank you for every limitation that whispered, you are not enough. Because those limitations taught me something glorious. I do not have to be enough. Thank you for the windfalls that never arrived, the contracts that vanished in thin air, the plans that collapsed like a tower of wooden blocks scattered across the floor. I thought you were taking something from me. Now I see that you were giving me something better. Awareness, dependence, wakefulness. A soul that would not sleepwalk through life. Thank you for the years of silence. Those years when heaven seemed quiet, when prayers felt unanswered, when I listened and heard nothing but my own breathing. Even then you were teaching me to seek you instead of merely seeking your gifts. And Lord, thank you for the people who nudged me from comfortable places, the ones who pushed me toward responsibilities I felt unprepared to carry. The ones who called me forward when I wanted to stay hidden. The ones who saw possibilities I could not yet see. Those moments felt uncomfortable, sometimes humiliating, sometimes terrifying. But again and again, your strength appeared most clearly when mine was absent, not when I was polished, not when I was impressive, not when I had it all together, but when I stood before you with empty hands, confessing failures, confessing fears, confessing need, and finding your grace waiting there. So thank you, Lord, for every time I lost the plot, every time I stumbled, every time I was confronted by my own astonishing capacity for sin. Because every one of those moments became a signpost, a marker, a gentle hand on my shoulder, turning me back toward the cross. And now looking back across the years, I can see that many of the things I called disasters were actually invitations. Many of the things I called setbacks were mercies in disguise. Many of the things I begged you to remove became the very tools you used to shape my soul. And so today, with gratitude deeper than understanding, I simply say thank you for the gifts, for the losses, for the victories, for the wounds, for the things that happened and the things that never did. And perhaps one day, when all things are made new, I will discover that some of God's greatest gifts arrived wrapped in disappointment. Some of your greatest mercies first appeared as losses, and some of your kindest answers sounded exactly like no. We give thanks. Until tomorrow, take care, notice the scattered moments, and share the grace.
