Is That Really Meant for Me?”

This morning, I sat with my scriptures open on my lap, and a quiet house. I love when the quiet finds me first. I had gone to my study looking for peace, honestly. I had that familiar swirl in my chest—the kind that comes when you’ve been praying about something for a long time, and the answer still hasn’t come. Or maybe it has, and I’m just too hesitant to believe it really applies to me.

Have you ever read about a miracle in the scriptures—one of those big, heaven-parting kind of stories—and thought, “Okay… but did that actually happen? And even if it did, could something like that ever happen to me?”

Because I do. Often.

Today, I found myself in Moroni 7, where it says that angels are still ministering. That they’re doing the work of the covenants of the Father. And I just paused there.

I think I’d read that verse dozens of times before, but today it struck something different. I closed the book for a second and whispered, “Wait—are they really? Like, now? Today? Around me?”

Because if that’s true… if angels are doing the Father’s work today, that means I’m not just hoping for help—I’m receiving it. Actively. Silently. Invisibly, maybe. But definitely.

And yet… how often do I assume these things are happening for someone more faithful? Someone who is probably living a holier life, or who doesn’t second-guess the whisperings that come in quiet places?

There’s a part of me, honestly, that wants someone to just stand up—maybe in Relief Society or on a podcast—and say, “I saw an angel last night. This is how it happened.” Or, “Here’s exactly what it looked like when I followed a prompting and the miracle unfolded.” Because when we hear that someone we know experienced it, doesn’t it make us lean in a little closer? Doesn’t it make us wonder if it could happen to us, too?

But here’s the thing I realized today: faith doesn’t come after the evidence. It comes before. I’ve been waiting for something to prove to me that these promises are real, and God has been gently nudging me to believe first—and then watch what unfolds.

It’s hard. Especially when things feel quiet. Especially when heaven feels more like a sealed door than a parted veil.

But faith says, “It is happening, even if you don’t see it.”

This week, I had one of those small moments—the kind that would be easy to dismiss. I was overwhelmed, honestly, and praying about something that felt too big to carry. As I was driving, I had the thought come clearly and gently: “You are not alone in this.”

Now, I’ve had thoughts like that before. And I usually brush them off. But this time, I sat with it a bit longer. What if… that was an angel? What if that was one of those moments where the heavens whispered something meant just for me—and I didn’t miss it this time?

That’s the shift, I think. Not waiting for the big, spectacular thing. But starting to believe that the spectacular is already happening quietly around me.

And maybe it’s not about seeing angels. Maybe it’s about trusting they are there. That they are assigned. That they speak Christ’s words to my heart, through my thoughts, through others, through the whisper I almost didn’t notice.

I don’t have a grand miracle to report. Not today.

But I do have a little more faith than I did yesterday. And I believe that matters. I believe God counts that.

So today, I’m choosing to believe that those scriptural promises—yes, even the ones that sound too wild or too good to be true—are for me. That the voice I heard was real. That angels are working on things I can’t even see yet. That when it’s time, and when I’m ready to step into it, the miracle will meet me.

Maybe you needed to hear that today, too. If so, consider this your whisper, your evidence-in-the-making.

It’s already happening.

And it is meant for you.