The Ritual Space / Rodah Mariah
Well, God…
I’m going to
need a sign.

An imagined visual story accompanying Rodah’s reflection.
The space between
Sometimes, we’re about to embark on something or make a decision, and we want to know we’re making the right choice.
Then we make it… and everything starts to feel wrong.
Was that the wrong choice? Or is this the part we don’t yet understand?
We know where we’re coming from. We have an idea of the life we want to experience. But the space between? Whoo.
The old version of ourselves no longer feels like us. The person we are becoming—we’re still trying to catch up with them.
And sometimes, it feels like nothing is moving.

Well, God…
I’m going to need a sign.

Is it bad to want
reassurance?
I have questions about the Bible too. I’m still exploring what I believe and what I understand. Coming from a research background, I have questions about evidence. But here is a story I want to sit with: Gideon asking for a sign. Then asking again.
An ancient biblical story / Judges 6–7
Even Gideon Needed a Sign.
Then He Asked Again.
Doubt, reassurance and asking again.

Gideon’s story · Imagined biblical illustrations
As specific as that?
In Judges 6, Gideon is threshing wheat in a winepress to hide it from the Midianites. An angel appears and addresses him as a mighty warrior.
Gideon has questions. If God is with them, why has all this happened? Where are the miracles he has heard about? When told to deliver Israel, he points to his family’s weakness and his own low position.
He asks for a sign that it really is God speaking to him.
The offering. Fire from the rock.

He brings an offering. The angel touches the meat and unleavened bread with the tip of his staff. Fire rises from the rock and consumes them. The angel disappears, and God reassures Gideon that he will not die.
Later, Gideon carries out an instruction at night because he is afraid of his family and the townspeople. The story still shows his fear after that first sign.
Then comes the fleece.
Gideon asks that a wool fleece become wet with dew while the surrounding ground stays dry. According to the account, it happens. The next morning, he squeezes a bowlful of water from it.
Then he asks again.
This time, let the fleece remain dry and the surrounding ground become wet.
The text says that happens too.
The fleece. Then the reverse.

The first requestWet fleece.
Dry ground.
Then he asks againDry fleece.
Wet ground.
What the heck.
As specific as that.
And there is another moment of reassurance.
Before battle, God tells Gideon that if he is afraid, he can go down to the enemy camp with his servant Purah. There, Gideon overhears a man describing a dream: a barley loaf tumbles into the camp and overturns a tent. Another man interprets it as Gideon’s victory.
A dream overheard.

Gideon hears this, worships, and returns ready to lead. He had not requested that particular dream; in the story, it is reassurance offered to him.
I find this fascinating and encouraging. Someone could be called to do something and still have questions. Still feel afraid. Still need reassurance before continuing.
So here we are.
Our dreams might be big. Well, let them be big.
But bringing that dream into the life we actually live can be scary. We begin, we work, we question. Sometimes we don’t understand our own actions, yet the pull to keep going is strong.
And sometimes we haven’t even begun. We don’t have a direction. We’re asking what we want to do with our lives.
This is where I want us to pause.
Stay in the presence of it all. Reconnect long enough to say what we need.
I’m creating this ritual for me and you—a space for imagination and fierce writing. Somewhere to express the doubt, ask for guidance, and find a little fresh air. A glimpse of hope.
Imagination & fierce writing
Write it.
Without a filter.
Find a space where you can sit and connect. Open your book. Write the date.
Begin with what you want to experience. What are you trying to bring into your life? What are you starting—or trying to continue?

Then write what is frightening you.
Where does everything feel wrong? What feels as though it isn’t moving? What do you need clarity about?
Say it as honestly as it comes. You don’t have to make the doubt sound beautiful.
Then ask.
What sign are you asking for, in your own way? What would feel meaningful to you? Be as specific and as unusual as you want in what you write.
You can write when you hope to receive clarity, then leave room for what happens. A date passing without the sign you hoped for doesn’t have to become a verdict on your life or your dream.
Let the request be private if you want.
Then let it go. Stay open. Keep observing, keep listening, and keep working on what you can do.

I want doubt to lose its hold. I want to stay connected enough to explore what is possible, even while I’m still finding my way.
And if you don’t know what you want yet, write that too.
I don’t know where to begin. I need direction. Help me see what I can do with this life.
That can be your honest ask.
Here in The Ritual Space, we can bring the questions we don’t know where else to put. The hope, the confusion, the little piece of faith we are still exploring.
For now, I’ve written mine.

Well, God…
I’m going to need a sign.
By Rodah Mariah. The musician is a fictional visual story; Gideon’s scenes are imagined biblical illustrations. All imagery is AI-created.