I have written more than 200 posts called “Attentiveness” over the past five years, and now and then I ask myself, Why?

When I became a seminary president, I wanted to realize more fully the kind of life I have worked on for years, that is, being attentive to my own soul, to those around me, and to the movement of God’s Spirit both in grand gestures and intimate asides. I also wanted to lead thoughtfully as an Evangelical Christian, paying attention to movements and events, pondering and providing a way to think about this chaotic world in which we live and love.

It is too easy today to rush through the days, weeks and years without really paying attention to details of what is going on around us. And when this happens, we often miss God’s still small voice, and also the voices of the lost, least, unloved and the lonely.

So let’s be attentive!

As our new academic year is on the horizon, in my early morning walks I have been looking at the ocean horizon as I pray for faculty, staff, administration, board members and our students. I try to listen to God and pray with empathy. I try to be attentive. I am especially concerned for our new students who might log on from all over the world and who will sit in a classroom in one of the three states where in-person classes are held. I’m praying, “Lord, may they be especially attentive to their world and to their own souls as they become part of the global Gordon-Conwell community.”

This morning as I walked on the beach and prayed for our students, an armadillo swam up from the ocean and started walking to dry land. Unlike a dog, he did not shake off the water. He simply swam and then started walking.

I thought, Now there is something you don’t see every day, or maybe ever in a very long lifetime. Armadillos swim? Where is he coming from? Did he fall off a ship? What would he be doing on a ship? Where is he going to go now? I had in that moment (and still have) many other questions about that strange encounter.

Then I thought: God can do anything. He can make an armadillo swim! Keeping such perspective is important. When I am flying from meeting to meeting – trying to solve problems, raise money, reduce tensions – I often forget that God is so much greater, so much more creative, so much more merciful, and so much more powerful than my small imaginings. I go through my day (way too often) assuming I have to fix things – that keeping my world going is up to me. And then God sends an armadillo to swim up from the ocean and walk directly across my path on the beach in front of me. God is reminding me, “I can do anything.”

This morning I read from Job:

But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
or the birds in the sky and they will tell you;
or speak to the earth and it will teach you,
or let the fish in the sea inform you.

Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of mankind.

~Job 12:7-10

Inspiration comes in small moments in the midst of routine and duty. Whether we are walking alone on a beach saying prayers or doing our daily devotions, or devoting a season to fasting and prayer, it is during these times when our hearts are open and we can be inspired. The Latin inspiratus means a breath or breathe into. For Christians, the breath is the Holy Spirit enlivening us. The Spirit comes to us and shows us, speaks to us, empowers us, and directs us in our cruciform routines.

Today, when the swimming armadillo crossed my path, God used that moment to point me back to his Word, his character, and then to my need to trust only him.

Other armadillos I have seen in the past were flat on midwestern highways. Today, as I was about my daily routine, I saw one upright and swimming. “Ask the animals and they will teach you” . . . about God and how he can do anything.

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.