Tube of toothpaste

Earlier, I walked into my daughter's bathroom and noticed her tube of toothpaste lying on the floor. I didn't pick it up. I stared at it, most likely because I'm tired and I am well past my daily limit of the number of things I can pick up off the floor. But in that moment of hesitation, I felt that still, small, non-audible voice of the Lord - which is more like words being expressed inside of me that aren't mine but that I register - say, "My words and my presence are as real as that tube of toothpaste." I sort of glanced around...."Really?" I silently replied. I stared at the cap, the creases, the wear on the back of the white tube. Why is it so hard to just believe without any doubt seeping in? I know better than to doubt the Lord and His voice and His work in my life, and I don't. But I am still flesh and blood, broken and bruised from this world and from my own humanity. He gets that. He understands, and that is precisely why He shows up, just to remind me that He is here, now, and isn't going anywhere. Thank you thank you thank you.