I’ll be honest: I wasn’t feeling it. I wanted to. I really did. But in that moment, in that space, it just wasn’t happening. And I wasn’t sure what to do.

It was our most recent Worship Night at Alpine. The church had come together to spend the evening celebrating who God is and praying for one another. There’s usually a ton of excitement and anticipation around these nights. But for me, I didn’t feel any of that. I felt drained. Spent. Just plain tired. And I didn’t quite know how to respond.

I sang along with the band more out of habit than anything else, uttering words that I felt were lifeless from moment they left my lips. Then something happened. We began to sing a song called, “Here as in Heaven” by Elevation Worship. The first verse goes like this:

The atmosphere is changing now. For the Spirit of the Lord is here. The evidence is all around. That the Spirit of the Lord is here.

Up to that point, I had assumed that the “evidence” the song was talking about was something experiential. It was a certain feeling or some emotional response to what God was doing in me or in the room at that exact moment. If that was the type of “evidence” that was supposed to be all around me, then I couldn’t sing those words again with any amount of integrity.

I stopped singing for a moment and bowed my head. I began to pray and God patiently listened, like a caring parent would do with their child. When I had spoken my piece, I got quiet. And then I heard it.

Everyone around me was still singing.

I looked up and saw the men and women who had come together to praise our great God. And as I did, I thought about the stories of these brothers and sisters of mine who God had saved: the woman who God had rescued from an abusive relationship; the son who was struggling with doubts but refusing to let go of Jesus; the daughter who praised God for giving her a family that raised her to follow Jesus; the old man who had walked with God for decades and would soon worship in the fullness of God’s presence.

In that moment I realized that the “evidence” I needed wasn’t some emotional state or fuzzy feeling. The evidence of God’s Spirit was the presence of His people. It was the stories of God’s love represented by each and every person in that room. It was the reality that I was breathing the same air as men and women who had been rescued by God, had been given new life by the power of His Spirit, and had come together to tell their Savior how awesome He is. They were the evidence.

All of the sudden, my personal emotional experience didn’t seem to matter all that much. What mattered was the fact that God had changed lives, that He was still changing lives, and that He wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. I raised my hands and sang out to the one who had filled that room with the evidence of his power, his goodness, and his love by filling it with his people.

Maybe you’re where I was that night. Maybe you don’t feel like there’s much “evidence” of God in your life during this season. In your mind, you would agree that He probably is. But you wish that you felt like it in your heart. Take a moment to think about what He is doing in the lives of those around you. Not with envy or a “why not me?” attitude, but with the desire to be reminded of who He is based on what He is up to in their lives. If you take a moment to look for that kind of evidence, there might be more around you than you think.