coffee with god
This is Justina’s story of getting to know God—beyond religion, beyond rules. Grab a drink, get comfy, and enjoy.
God dwells within me as me.
And that’s where I found it— in love, nature, songs, animals, bugs, the ocean, the flowers, and even churches. God was love, and love was everywhere, and maybe that’s what makes us human after all. Everything on this earth stemmed from love and God, and I think I could make a strong argument for that.
To backtrack— for me, the word God is interchangeable. Universe, God, magic, the divine… As silly as it may sound, I Love You and Buddha Too by Mason Jennings pretty much summarizes my relationship with religion:
“Why do some people say
That there is just one way
To love you God and come to you
We are all a part of you.”
When I find myself overwhelmed, empty, burnt out, or scrambling to fill a void inside me, I realize I’ve strayed away from it all— specifically, God.
You may have felt that too— trying to fill emptiness by dating people you shouldn’t, going places that won’t fill your cup, or staying busy just to avoid the quiet. After writing this, I asked my dear friend McKenzie (who I also refer to as Kenzie) to read it, and one of her notes sparked something deeper: everyone is trying to connect to something bigger, but it’s all the same thing. There’s no “bigger thing.” It’s right here, with us, in every moment.
Maybe part of the resistance comes from how cultures, politics, or institutions push specific religions onto people. Our younger generations often have more open minds, new approaches— and sometimes that makes old religious structures feel outdated. Kenzie and I joke about having religious trauma from churches we didn’t actually grow up in. But I believe we can learn to simply appreciate each tradition, if we feel called to do so.
For me, one of the biggest shifts was removing gendered language— Him, He— from my idea of God. Letting go of the image of a man in the sky deciding what’s right and wrong freed me. I realize that image came from childhood Catholic books that tried to simplify God for kids. I understand now that it is hard to depict what god is for a child. When I removed it, and even experimented with other names like the universe, I finally felt more comfortable, more in tune.
These days, no single religion defines me. I’ve explored many, and each one has taught me something valuable and welcomed me with love. I’ve always been fascinated by religion— even as a kid, I asked: If God created everything, then who created God?
I went to church camps in Vermont run by Lithuanian nuns. I did CCD and confirmation classes. I visited all the churches in my small Saint Augustine college town with my best friend, Kenzie. Each was beautiful in its own way. People poured their love for God into those details— these big expressions of devotion. In a way, it’s cute that humans build structures to celebrate life and the divine. But a church or temple doesn’t have to be marble or stained glass. Gratitude for God can be as simple as sitting in a field of flowers, or closing your eyes in your own mind. Like Kenzie says, love (God) is everywhere I go.
Still, I struggled with certain concepts that felt controlling rather than freeing. The idea that I must kneel in a box and confess to a priest, following a script, never sat right with me. Why couldn’t I talk to God while driving, walking, or dancing? Why couldn’t I apologize or pray openly? For me, God was everywhere— and always, with love.
God meets me wherever I am. Every time.
Exploring churches during college expanded me. We’d compare ceremonies, noting differences— sipping grape juice from tiny plastic cups, listening to varied messages. Some services left me uplifted and inspired, while others left me shaking my head, wondering how a place built on love could speak words of division.
In my last year of college, I immersed myself in a non-denominational church. I’d heard mixed reviews, but I wanted to form my own opinion, learn more, and maybe find community. It was different from Catholicism— casual, welcoming, “cool.” I could bring my iced coffee from Kookaburra, wear ripped jeans, and show up as myself. No costumes. No expectations. And I loved that.
That season of life was hard, sometimes isolating. I’d see families and couples filling cars together, while I showed up alone. I questioned if I was trying too hard to fit into something not meant for me. But still, something pulled me back— it filled my cup. It helped me find God again.
I dove all in: I got baptized, sang, worshiped, surrendered, served (through social media content), joined a youth group, even went camping. I was met with kindness and community. I learned how to truly pray— to leave my worries at God’s doorstep, to speak openly anytime. After every service, I’d sit in a nearby park for an hour, talking to God. Often, it ended in tears, but in the best way.
I learned that Jesus was at the forefront of Christianity, so I did a deep dive. The more I read, the more I saw him as a spiritual figure rather than someone tied to a single religion. In many ways, he felt like a free spirit—teaching that we are souls in bodies, and that God is found through love, kindness, and treating others the way we wish to be treated. He was a teacher of God, but it didn’t feel right to limit myself to just one concept.
Something still felt missing, so I kept moving along my path. That church and community, though, gave me gifts I carry with me every day. To those I met there—thank you. Thank you for your kindness, patience, and openness. I send love and light to you all.
Eventually, my journey led elsewhere— to a juice-fasting, spiritual retreat in the valleys of southern Portugal. While reading The Untethered Soul, I experienced fire ceremonies, kirtan, ecstatic dance. I met people from everywhere, shared meals, practiced meditation, and learned the rhythms of a yogic life. For the first time, I felt God within meditation, in my third eye, in silence. God was here— in me. It was the same divine energy I felt while praying back in college, now appearing through different practices.
I was meeting God wherever I was, again and again. Sometimes dinner with God, sometimes coffee with God. It felt good every time.
God was also in manifestations, angel numbers, synchronicities, and little pieces of magic. Even Lish’s story— though casual— was an alignment with God. Which was beautiful.
In Bali, I learned another lesson: Why worry, when you can pray? Their devotion, rituals, and everyday practices inspired me deeply. (Here’s a past blog about one of their beautiful traditions.)
So why did it take me so long to write about God?
Maybe because I doubted myself. Who was I to speak on a concept that has caused wars, divisions, and trauma? Maybe because it feels taboo, even though it’s my favorite thing to talk about, the one thing that makes me word-vomit in journals, that lights me up in conversation.
It feels important because it is. God is love, and love is what makes us human.
Sometimes I want to tell people: maybe what you’re missing is the simplest, most profound thing— God.
I get nudges reminding me it’s okay to share, even when my balance with spirituality feels uneven. Some days it’s all I think about, other days I forget. That’s human.
I know now there’s no one way. With all the cultures, stories, and histories in the world, of course each of us will meet God differently. But I invite you: get quiet. Meet God where you are. Let this ignite your own relationship with the divine.
And with that, I’ll leave you with
Some ways you can get to know God:
Spread a blanket in your backyard, park, or beach. Notice the trees, the wind, the breath in your body. Presence connects you to it all.
Pray by simply talking. Out loud, in your head, or in your journal. Share gratitude, worries, questions. There's no right or wrong.
Take an unplugged nature walk. Leave behind your phone and distractions, just breathe and observe.
Word-vomit journaling, let God write through you. Don’t overthink, just let it flow.
Meditate. Sit with your thoughts, notice them, let them pass. Create space in the temple of your mind.
Dance, paint, or do anything creative and intentional that gets you into a flow state.
Pay attention to what God has created— an animal, a baby, the ocean, another person. Sometimes simply listening to someone is a way of honoring the divine.
I’m excited to continue to learn and experience more with God and other ways of life. I know this journey will continue as I experience more and how beautiful is that.
In the end, I hope this inspires you to notice the love and magic surrounding you every day. I want to wholeheartedly thank McKenzie for always walking alongside me in our spiritual endeavors and reminding me I’m never alone. I deeply value our relationship, our conversations, and the bond we share, and I’m grateful we hold the same ideals in our hearts. Thank you for teaching me, sharing with me, and growing with me. See you soon!!