Have you ever wished you had a sacred space—a quiet place where you could feel God’s presence more clearly? A corner of peace in the middle of life’s chaos? My mom once had a dream like that. She imagined building a home with a mini chapel inside—a dedicated room for devotions, worship, and prayer. A simple sanctuary. A space set apart.
That chapel was never built. But looking back, I realize we didn’t need walls to make worship real.
My dad, ever practical, didn’t see the need for it. He believed any space could be holy ground if our hearts were set on God. So, our living room became our chapel. A special place.
Twice a day, we gathered there for family devotions—morning and evening. On some Saturdays, we’d have “breakfast and devotions.” That meant cornflakes (a rare treat in my home at the time), scrambled eggs, freshly baked bread, fruits, and long, beautiful moments around the Word of God.
Other times, it turned into a full church service. My dad, who was a pastor, brought out hymnbooks—each boldly marked with our family name. My brother played the keyboard, my sister the violin, and I joined with my flute. We’d sing, pray, worship, listen to a sermon, and sometimes even preach (well, dad did that part)..
It wasn’t grand, but it was sacred.
And the older I get, the more I realize how deeply those moments shaped me.
We weren’t just checking boxes—we were building altars. Even without a physical chapel, we created space for God to dwell among us.
The fact is, God isn’t waiting for us in a fancy building—He’s waiting for us to make room for Him. Even if it’s just 5, 10, or 15 minutes of uninterrupted time—He honors it.
We live in a noisy world. But sacred moments with God don’t need to be long to be deep. What is required is intention. Moments where we silence distractions. Where we talk to God and pause long enough to hear Him talk back.
Where we enjoy—not rush—His presence.
Where the warmth of His Spirit settles over us like a gentle blanket.
Over time, I’ve come to realize that a chapel isn’t always a building, and a “war room” isn’t always a closet. They are intentional spaces—carved out of the ordinary—for extraordinary encounters with God.
You may not have hymnbooks with your family name on them, or instruments for worship. You may not have grown up with family devotions or ever built a prayer closet. But here’s what you can have: a moment, a place, and a posture of intentional fellowship with God.
“Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.” – James 4:8 (KJV)
Whether it’s five minutes in the kitchen before the house wakes up… Ten minutes on your knees in your closet with handwritten prayers taped to the wall… Fifteen minutes in the living room with your Bible, a cup of tea, and no distractions…
Every one of those moments becomes a war room—A place where battles are fought, peace is restored, hearts are strengthened, and God’s presence is felt.
The space doesn’t need stained glass. It just needs a heart ready to meet God.
So let me ask you: What’s your chapel? What’s your war room? Where do you go—physically or spiritually—to connect deeply with God? Where has God met you in the quiet corners of your day? Is there a sacred rhythm you’re building—or feel led to begin—that creates space for God’s presence in your everyday life?
Sometimes, the holiest places… are the simplest ones.
This photo was taken at the Notre-Dame Cathedral Basilica in Ottawa—a place of beauty, intricate detail, and sacred stillness. A chapel like this takes your breath away. But here’s the truth: you don’t need stained glass and arches for a divine encounter. You just need a heart that says, ‘God, I’m here.
Categories: My Christian Beliefs
Pearl's Blog 
My most sacred places are always off the beaten path in nature, usually with running water in forested land. I’ve heard some people say that nature is their church. While I understand and in many way relate… it’s not. It serves a slightly different purpose. It’s a great place to hear from God, speak to him and worship. Jesus needed to withdrawal in solitude too sometimes, in places just like that. It’s also important however to remember we must be involved in community so we can serve, and as healing as it can be to be alone with God it can also be healing to fellowship with others that love him. I wish more people knew the importance of a quiet place to withdrawal, talks of God and recharge, thanks for bringing it attention in the blog universe.
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Thank you so much for this rich and thoughtful reflection. I completely agree—there’s something deeply sacred about encountering God in nature. Like you said, it’s not quite the same as church, but it’s a powerful place to commune with Him. I love that you brought up how Jesus Himself often withdrew into quiet, natural places to pray—it’s such a gentle reminder that solitude isn’t a detour from faith; it’s part of the journey.
And yes, I wholeheartedly agree that community matters too. Our time alone with God fuels us to pour into others, just like our time with others can remind us of God’s love in tangible ways.
Thank you again for sharing this. Your words beautifully echo the heartbeat of the post—and they’ve added such depth to the conversation.
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