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Have you ever finished your Bible reading for the day and immediately realized you couldn’t tell someone what you just read?

I’ve been there.

You open your Bible. You read the assigned chapters. You finish the plan. You close the book. Then ten minutes later you struggle to remember a single thing that stood out.

If you’ve ever wondered, “Why don’t I get anything out of reading the Bible?” you’re not alone.

The Bible itself tells us that God's Word is living and active.

“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (Hebrews 4:12)

So if scripture is powerful, why do so many believers walk away from their Bible reading feeling unchanged?

In fact, I think many sincere Christians ask this question but are afraid to say it out loud.

We know we’re supposed to read scripture. We know it’s important. We know God’s Word is powerful. Yet sometimes reading the Bible can feel more like completing a task than spending time with God.

The good news is that this doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong with you.

It may mean you’ve been approaching the Bible with expectations that scripture never intended.

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The Problem With Treating Bible Reading Like A Checklist

Many of us were taught that consistency is important. That’s true.

But somewhere along the way, many Christians unintentionally replaced understanding with completion.

We celebrate finishing Bible reading plans.

We count streaks.

We track chapters.

We measure progress by how much we read.

None of those things are bad.

The problem comes when our primary goal becomes finishing instead of understanding.

I’ve had seasons where I was reading multiple chapters every day and growing very little because I wasn’t slowing down enough to think about what I was reading.

I was consuming scripture without actually engaging with it.

Imagine sitting down with your spouse for dinner every night and talking as fast as possible so you could check a box that says “spent time together.”

Technically, you spent time together.

But did you actually connect?

The goal of reading the Bible is not to finish a reading plan.

Jeremiah 9:23–24 tells us:

Thus says the LORD: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the LORD.”

This is one of the strongest verses in scripture about knowing God rather than merely accumulating information.

The goal is to know God.

Why We Expect Too Much From Our Emotions

There is another problem that often gets overlooked.

Many Christians have been taught, either directly or indirectly, that every time they open the Bible they should experience something powerful.

They expect:

• A life-changing revelation

• A powerful emotional moment

• A fresh word from God

• An overwhelming sense of His presence

And when those things don’t happen, they conclude that their Bible reading wasn’t effective.

But scripture never teaches that spiritual growth is measured by emotional intensity.

2 Corinthians 5:7 tells us:

for we walk by faith, not by sight.

Faith is not primarily driven by feelings.

Some days God’s Word will move you deeply.

Some days you’ll fill pages of a journal.

Some days you’ll feel convicted, encouraged, challenged, or inspired.

Other days will feel ordinary.

Most days, if we’re honest, are ordinary.

That’s because spiritual growth usually happens much slower than we want it to.

Growth Often Happens Before You Notice It

One of the mistakes we make is assuming that if we don’t feel immediate change, then no change is happening.

But that’s not how growth works.

A farmer doesn’t plant a seed and expect a harvest the next morning.

Roots develop long before fruit appears.

Isaiah 55:10–11 says:

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”

In the same way, God’s Word is often doing work beneath the surface that we can’t immediately see.

You may not notice a difference after reading your Bible today.

But after months of faithfully spending time in scripture, you may discover:

• You’re more patient.

• You’re less anxious.

• You react differently to conflict.

• You recognize sin more quickly.

• You trust God more deeply.

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9

Don’t grow weary because growth takes time.

They happen through the steady work of God’s Word over time.

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What If The Real Problem Is Understanding?

Sometimes people say they don’t get anything out of reading the Bible when the real issue is that they don’t understand what they’re reading.

That’s not a spiritual failure.

The Bible was written in a different culture, different languages, and across thousands of years of history.

They read from the book, from the Law of God, clearly, and they gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading. Nehemiah 8:8

Some passages are naturally easier to understand than others.

This is why slowing down can be so helpful.

Instead of asking:

“What chapters do I need to finish today?”

Try asking:

• What is this passage teaching me about God?

• What is happening in this story?

• Why was this written?

• What does this reveal about God’s character?

• How should I respond?

You might discover that one paragraph studied carefully feeds your soul more than five chapters rushed through.

How To Get More Out Of Reading The Bible

Here are a few practical things that have helped me.

Read Less Sometimes

Don’t be afraid to spend an entire day in a few verses if they’re speaking to you.

Ask Questions

Become curious about the text.

The Bible was meant to be explored, not merely completed.

Use Good Study Tools

A study Bible, commentary, or Bible dictionary can often unlock passages that feel confusing.

Pray Before You Read

Ask God to help you understand what you’re reading.

Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law. Psalm 119:18

Focus On Knowing God

Don’t read looking for a feeling.

Read looking for Him.

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Keep Showing Up

If you’ve been discouraged because you feel like you’re not getting anything out of reading the Bible, let me encourage you.

Don’t quit.

Don’t assume God is absent.

“All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16–17

Don’t believe that every quiet day is a wasted day.

Sometimes we overspiritualize Bible reading and expect an emotional experience that God never promised.

Other times we rush through scripture so quickly that we never stop long enough to understand it.

The answer is not to abandon God’s Word.

The answer is to slow down, pay attention, and keep showing up.

Because the goal isn’t to finish your reading plan.

The goal is to know the God who wrote it.

And relationships are built through faithful time together, even on the quiet days.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. Psalm 1:1–3

The goal of reading scripture is not to feel something every day. The goal is to know God, understand His Word, and be transformed over time.

The next time you open your Bible and nothing seems to jump off the page, don’t panic. Don’t assume God is distant. Don’t conclude that you’re failing as a Christian.

Some of the most important work God does in our lives happens slowly and quietly. Long before fruit appears, roots are growing. Long before we notice change, God is shaping our hearts through His Word. The goal is not to finish a reading plan or chase an emotional experience. The goal is to know God more deeply today than you did yesterday.

Keep showing up. Keep reading. Keep asking questions. Keep listening. God’s Word is doing more than you can see.

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Buy Me A Coffee

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I think a lot of us imagined spiritual growth would feel more dramatic than it actually does.

We picture breakthrough moments.
Life-changing sermons.
Powerful worship experiences that permanently transform us overnight.

And sometimes those moments happen.

But most spiritual growth feels much quieter than that.

It happens while you keep showing up.

Showing up to pray.
Showing up to church.
Showing up to Scripture.
Showing up after disappointment.
Showing up after failure.
Showing up when nobody applauds it.

The strange thing is that while those moments feel ordinary, they are quietly shaping you into someone.

Even if you can’t see it yet.

The Exhaustion of Repetition

There are seasons where faithfulness feels repetitive.

Not beautiful.
Not emotional.
Just repetitive.

And honestly, those seasons can mess with your head a little.

Because eventually you start wondering:

“Am I actually growing?”

“Why does this feel so ordinary?”

“Shouldn’t I be further along by now?”

A lot of Christians quietly assume that if God is working, life should constantly feel spiritually exciting.

But most of life is not lived on mountaintops.

Most of life is lived in routines.

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There have been many moments in my life where we had a great Sunday.

The message connected.
Worship felt powerful.
People filled the altar praying and crying and reconnecting with God.

From the outside, it looked like one of those Sundays every pastor hopes for.

Then I’d get in the car to drive home and realize the rest of life was still waiting for me.

The conversations my wife and I still needed to have.
Promises I had made that I needed to follow through on.
Friends who needed support.
Extra work waiting for me because ministry alone wasn’t paying all the bills.

I remember gripping the steering wheel one night feeling completely torn between all the different things pulling at me.

Part of me thought:
“If I’m really growing spiritually, why do I still feel this stretched and exhausted?”

I started wondering if I was stuck spiritually when really I was just in a season of slow growth.

And honestly, I think a lot of spiritual growth feels that way while it’s happening.

Not dramatic.
Not obvious.

Just a person quietly learning how to remain faithful in the middle of ordinary pressure.

Daniel Was Faithful Before the Crisis

One of the things I love about Scripture is how often it highlights ordinary consistency instead of dramatic moments.

Daniel didn’t suddenly become faithful when pressure arrived.

He already had rhythms.

“When Daniel knew that the document had been signed, he went to his house where he had windows in his upper chamber open toward Jerusalem. He got down on his knees three times a day and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he had done previously.”
— Daniel 6:10 (ESV)

That last phrase matters.

“As he had done previously.”

Before the lions.
Before the pressure.
Before anyone noticed him.

His faithfulness had already been formed quietly over time.

And that kind of consistency changes a person.

Most people want transformation.

Very few people want repetition.

But repetition is where formation usually happens.

That’s true spiritually too.

A lot of growth happens so slowly you only recognize it in hindsight.

You suddenly realize:

• you react differently now

• you recover faster

• you trust God more deeply

• you’re softer than you used to be

• certain fears no longer control you the same way

Not because of one emotional moment.

Because you kept returning to God over and over again.

Quietly.

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Jesus Had Rhythms Too

Sometimes we talk about Jesus as if His life was one nonstop spiritual high.

But Scripture constantly shows rhythms.

“And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day…”
— Luke 4:16 (ESV)

“As was his custom.”

There’s something comforting about that.

Even Jesus lived with rhythms and routines.

Consistency.
Patterns.
Faithful repetition.

We celebrate the miracles of Jesus while often overlooking the ordinary faithfulness surrounding them.

But ordinary faithfulness matters more than we realize.

Because your habits are shaping your soul.

The People With Deep Roots Usually Aren’t Loud

After years in ministry, I’ve noticed something.

The people with the deepest faith are usually not the flashiest people.

They’re often the quiet ones.

The older couple who kept serving faithfully for decades.

The exhausted parent whispering prayers during the morning school run.

The man quietly opening his Bible before work every morning.

The widow who still worships through grief.

None of it looks impressive online.

But it forms something steady inside a person.

A Cup for Jesus

I remember a kind older lady in one of our churches whose husband had passed away.

Every morning, she would make two cups of tea.

One for herself.
And one “for Jesus.”

If you heard that without knowing her, you might think it sounded strange. Maybe even a little crazy.

But honestly, it wasn’t.

There was something incredibly pure about it.

She would sit quietly in the morning with her Bible open, talking to the Lord like He was truly there with her. Not performing. Not trying to sound spiritual. Just… close to Him.

Her faith was gentle.
Steady.
Uncomplicated in the best way.

And I remember realizing how deeply I admired that.

Not because she was loud.
Not because she had a platform.
Not because she had all the answers.

She simply walked with God.

Quietly.
Consistently.
Over time.

And honestly, I envied that kind of faith.

It was around then that I started realizing something important:

The loudest people are often the shallowest people.

But the quiet ones? The ones who have walked with God through grief, disappointment, ordinary mornings, and long years of faithfulness?

Those are usually the people with roots.

Those are the kinds of people I want to become.

Growth Underground Still Counts

“Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it… You also, be patient. Establish your hearts…”
— James 5:7–8 (ESV)

Farmers understand something we forget.

Growth underground still matters.

Even when you can’t see it yet.

Roots grow quietly.

And honestly, some of the deepest work God does in a human life happens beneath the surface where nobody else can measure it.

Not every season produces visible fruit immediately.

That doesn’t mean nothing is happening.

There’s a small detail in Luke 2 that I can’t stop thinking about lately.

Anna had spent decades worshiping and praying in the temple before Jesus arrived.

Luke 2:37 says:

“She did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day.”

Think about how many ordinary days are hidden inside that verse.

Years of repetition.
Years where faithfulness probably felt unseen.
Years where nothing spectacular seemed to happen.

And yet she was there when Jesus arrived.

There’s something powerful about that.

Quiet faithfulness positions you differently.

I think some of you need permission to stop chasing constant spiritual excitement.

Because mature faith is not always emotionally dramatic.

Sometimes mature faith looks incredibly ordinary.

Praying tired prayers before bed.

Opening Scripture while distracted.

Going to church after a painful week.

Choosing forgiveness again.

Returning to God again.

And again.

And again.

Some of the strongest faith in the world looks very ordinary while it’s happening.

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Don’t Underestimate What God Is Building

As a writer, there’s a part of me that wants to have all the answers.

Every week I sit down with the opportunity to speak into people’s lives through this newsletter. And honestly, there are moments where I wish I could neatly explain everything people are carrying.

I wish I had perfect wisdom for grief.
For disappointment.
For anxiety.
For prayers that seem unanswered.

But the reality is, I don’t.

Some weeks I sit down tired.
Some weeks I wrestle with the same fears and pressures everyone else does.
Some weeks I stare at a blinking cursor wondering if anything I write is actually helping anyone at all.

And yet somehow, week after week, God keeps using it.

Not because every article is perfect.
Not because I suddenly became deeply profound overnight.

But because I kept showing up.

I think I used to underestimate what God could do through small acts of repeated faithfulness.

I thought growth would mostly come through huge moments.
Big breakthroughs.
Clear victories.

But more and more, I’m realizing God often does His deepest work through ordinary consistency.

A person quietly praying.
Quietly serving.
Quietly writing.
Quietly returning to Him again and again.

And over time, those small acts shape you into someone steadier than you used to be.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”
— Galatians 6:9 (ESV)

That verse feels different the older I get.

Because perseverance does more than help you survive.

It shapes you.

Every quiet act of faithfulness forms something inside you.

Patience.
Steadiness.
Humility.
Endurance.

Not instantly.

Slowly.

The way roots grow.

If your life feels repetitive right now…
if your faith feels ordinary…
if nobody seems to notice your consistency…

Do not underestimate what God may be building in you.

A lot of the most important spiritual growth happens slowly enough that almost nobody notices it at first.

Sometimes not even you.

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Help me continue encouraging people who are trying to quietly hold onto faith through difficult seasons. If this article encouraged you, consider becoming a paid subscriber, sharing it with someone who feels spiritually tired, or supporting through a one-time gift. Sometimes people just need someone to remind them they’re not failing because they’re tired.

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There have been times in worship, prayer, and quiet moments with God when I quietly ask myself, “Why don’t I feel anything right now?”

Is it me?
Am I doing something wrong?
Did I somehow lose whatever I used to have with God?

And once those thoughts start, they usually don’t stay small for very long.

You start replaying everything.
Every failure.
Every inconsistency.
Every moment you missed prayer.
Every season where you drifted a little more than you wanted to admit.

Then the deeper questions start showing up.

Did God leave me?

Am I becoming cold?

Was my faith ever real to begin with?

I remember one season in ministry where I kept waiting to “feel” God again the way I used to.

I still preached.
Still led worship.
Still showed up.

Some nights I would drive home wondering why everyone else seemed so spiritually alive while I felt completely worn out inside.

I thought something had broken inside me spiritually.

Looking back now, I don’t think God had abandoned me at all.

I think He was teaching me the difference between emotional intensity and actual faithfulness.

I think more Christians wrestle with those questions than we realize. We just don’t say them out loud because we’re afraid someone will hear us and think we’re weak.

But there’s a huge difference between emotional experience and spiritual maturity.

The problem is, once we start measuring faith by feelings, silence starts feeling dangerous.

If we only believe God is near when emotions are high, then quiet seasons can start to feel like abandonment instead of growth.

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Why You Feel Spiritually Numb

Culture trains us to trust feelings above almost everything else. If it feels right, it must be right. If it feels wrong, run from it. If you feel inspired, move forward. If you don’t, wait until the feeling comes back.

But that falls apart pretty quickly in real life.

Because feelings change constantly.

You can wake up discouraged for no clear reason.
You can feel spiritually distant simply because you’re exhausted.
Stress can cloud everything.
Grief can numb everything.
Disappointment can make even good things feel heavy.

I used to work at a large church where everything moved fast. Big services. Big moments. Big emotional environments. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with emotional moments. God made emotions. Some of the most meaningful moments in my life happened in worship services where the presence of God felt overwhelming.

But eventually I noticed something in myself and in other people too.

A lot of us had quietly learned to associate God’s presence with emotional intensity.

If worship felt powerful, God was near.
If prayer felt emotional, faith was strong.
If tears came easily, we assumed our hearts were healthy.

But what happens when those emotions disappear for awhile?

What happens when worship feels quiet?
When church feels ordinary?
When your prayers hit the ceiling and fall back down on your head?

For some people, that’s where faith falls apart. Not because God left, but because the feeling did.

And honestly, I think that’s one reason so many believers live exhausted. We keep chasing emotional reassurance instead of learning how to remain rooted when things feel ordinary.

Somewhere along the way, many Christians learned how to look spiritually alive without actually being honest.

But God has never asked us to perform our faith for Him.

Real maturity with God often looks much less dramatic than we expected.

Sometimes it looks like continuing to pray when you feel nothing.
Sometimes it looks like opening your Bible out of obedience instead of excitement.
Sometimes it looks like going to church while carrying grief nobody else can see.
Sometimes it looks like worshipping through tears instead of victory.

Maybe faithfulness right now is not some dramatic spiritual breakthrough.

Maybe it’s the exhausted mom whispering a prayer on the drive to work.

Maybe it’s the grieving husband opening his Bible even though it still hurts.

Maybe it’s the believer who has not “felt” close to God in weeks but still refuses to walk away.

I think heaven notices those moments more than we realize.

That kind of faith rarely gets celebrated publicly.

It usually happens quietly between a person and God.

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Jesus Understands Emotional Exhaustion

One of the reasons I love the story of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane is because it completely destroys the idea that faith means pretending hard emotions don’t exist.

Jesus knew what was coming.

The betrayal.
The suffering.
The cross.

And scripture does not describe Him as emotionally detached or untouched by grief.

“Then he said to them, ‘My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.’” (Matthew 26:38)

That does not sound emotionally victorious.
It sounds painfully human.

And yet, in the middle of that anguish, Jesus prayed this:

“And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.’” (Matthew 26:39)

That is faith.

Not the absence of emotion.
Not pretending everything feels okay.
Not manufacturing confidence.

Faith is choosing trust while your emotions are screaming something else entirely.

I think sometimes we unintentionally make emotions the measure of spirituality. But if that were true, then Gethsemane would make no sense at all.

Jesus did not feel excitement about the cross.
He felt anguish.

But He obeyed anyway.

And honestly, that gives me hope. Because there have been seasons where I loved God deeply and still felt emotionally exhausted at the same time.

Scripture never says mature believers stop struggling emotionally.
It says they keep trusting God in the middle of it.

“for we walk by faith, not by sight.” (Corinthians 5:7)

Sometimes obedience feels peaceful.
Sometimes obedience feels costly.
Sometimes obedience feels like dragging yourself forward one trembling step at a time.

And God is still present in all of it.

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Why Feelings Cannot Lead Your Faith

Feelings are real.
They matter.
God gave them to us.

But feelings make terrible gods because they constantly change.

One day you feel hopeful about your future. The next day one difficult conversation convinces you everything is falling apart.

One moment you feel close to God. The next moment anxiety, exhaustion, or disappointment settles in and suddenly heaven feels silent again.

That’s why David wrote this in the Psalms:

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.” (Psalms 42:11)

Notice something important there.

David does not deny his emotions.
He acknowledges them honestly.

“Why are you cast down?”
“Why are you disturbed?”

But he also refuses to let his feelings become the final authority over what is true.

That is mature faith.

Feelings are a little like weather.
They tell you something about the environment, but they should not be trusted to steer the entire vehicle.

And honestly, some of the strongest believers I’ve ever met were not loud people living on emotional highs all the time.

They were steady people.

People who kept trusting God through funerals.
Through cancer.
Through betrayal.
Through loneliness.
Through unanswered prayers.

Not flashy faith.
Steady faith.

The kind that quietly keeps showing up.

Some of the strongest faith in the world looks incredibly ordinary from the outside.

Mature faith is not always emotionally loud. Sometimes it’s just stubborn enough to stay.

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If Your Faith Feels Weak Right Now

If you’re in a season where faith feels quiet right now, I want you to know something.

You are not crazy.
You are not alone.

You do not have to panic every time your emotions fluctuate. Faith was never meant to depend entirely on emotional momentum. And you are probably not failing nearly as badly as you think you are.

Some of the holiest moments in your life may never feel dramatic at all. Sometimes spiritual growth looks less like fireworks and more like endurance.

Hebrews says this about faith:

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

Not seen.

That means faith often exists in places where feelings cannot fully verify what God is doing yet.

Sometimes faith is simply waking up one more day and whispering,
“Jesus, I still trust You.”

Even here.
Even now.
Even when I cannot feel it.

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God Is Still There in the Silence

I think one of the biggest surprises in following Jesus is discovering how often God works in silence.

Not absence.
Silence.

And silence is not always rejection.

Sometimes silence is where deeper trust is formed.

And there’s a difference.

Because silence forces trust in ways constant reassurance never could.

Eventually you realize faith was never meant to be built only on emotional highs. Emotional moments are beautiful gifts, but they were never designed to carry the full weight of your relationship with God.

Feelings come and go.

God does not.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)

That matters when your emotions feel unstable.

Because your relationship with God is anchored to His character, not your mood.

So if you’re walking through a dark room right now with your hands stretched out in front of you, trying to find something solid to hold onto, keep walking.

Not because you feel confident.
Not because everything suddenly makes sense.

But because sometimes faith is simply trusting that God is still there even when the room feels quiet.

And honestly, maybe the fact that you’re still reaching for God at all means your faith is more alive than you think.

Weak people usually quit reaching.

But you didn’t.

Still praying.
Still hoping.
Still looking toward Him in the dark.

That matters.

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A guy stopped me after church recently while people were still stacking chairs in the background.

He waited until everybody else walked away first.

Then he asked, quietly, “How do I keep praying when nothing seems to change?”

I remember leaning against the wall for a second before answering because I knew he wasn’t asking for a church answer.

He looked tired.

Not dramatic. Just worn down in that slow way people get after carrying disappointment for a long time.

I told him what I’ve told many people over the years.

Keep talking to God.
Don’t isolate yourself.
God is still present even when He feels quiet.

And I meant it.

But driving home that night, I kept thinking about how heavy that answer can become after enough years in ministry.

Not because I’ve stopped believing prayer matters.

I haven’t.

I’ve seen too much.

I’ve watched God restore marriages that looked finished. I’ve watched people soften after years of bitterness. I’ve watched addicts become steady fathers. I’ve seen moments where God’s presence in a hospital room felt almost tangible.

But ministry also means watching faithful people carry unanswered prayers for a very long time.

And eventually you realize the hardest part is not convincing people that God can work.

It’s helping hurting people remain connected to Him while they wait.

That’s different.

Hannah’s story feels more honest to me now than it used to

When I first read 1 Samuel 1 years ago, I mostly focused on the ending.

God answers Hannah’s prayer.
Samuel is born.
Beautiful story.

Now I notice how much space scripture gives to the waiting.

“So it went on year by year.”
1 Samuel 1:7 (ESV)

That line feels small until you’ve lived long enough to understand it.

Year by year.

I think about the couple sitting across from me in my office a while back. Mid 40s maybe. They barely looked at each other the whole conversation.

At one point the husband stirred his coffee for probably thirty seconds without drinking it.

They had been praying for their marriage for years. Counseling. Trying. Failing. Trying again.

Not exciting Christianity. Just survival-level faith some weeks.

Or sitting in a hospital room praying quietly while machines beep in the background and somebody’s untouched pudding cup sits on the tray because nobody’s hungry anymore.

That’s where a lot of prayer actually happens.

Not on stages.

After enough years in ministry, you stop expecting life to fit into clean categories.

You watch God sustain people through impossible things.

And you also sit with people whose prayers still ache years later.

Both stay with you.

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Hannah keeps coming back to God anyway

That may be what I respect most in the story now.

Not the eventual answer.

The return.

She keeps coming back to God while carrying grief that has not resolved.

And when she finally prays, it’s not polished at all.

Eli thinks she’s drunk.

Honestly, I love that detail because real prayer rarely looks as composed as we pretend it does.

Sometimes prayer is tears and unfinished thoughts.

Sometimes it’s sitting in your car after church staring through the windshield because you don’t really know what else to say anymore.

Sometimes prayer is:
“Lord, I’m trying.”
That’s it.

Over time, I’ve learned that honesty keeps people connected to God better than performance does.

I’ve sat with people who stopped trying to sound spiritual once life hurt badly enough.

Honestly, some of their prayers became more real after that.

And maybe that’s not entirely bad.

There was a season I thought ministry might be over

Not in a dramatic collapse kind of way.

Just quiet uncertainty.

Doors closed. Plans changed. Things I thought would last didn’t. I found myself in a season where I genuinely did not know what the future was supposed to look like anymore.

I kept praying during that time, but most of those prayers sounded more confused than confident.

I wanted clarity.
God seemed slow.

I wanted direction.
Mostly I got silence and time.

Which I did not enjoy spiritually at all.

I ended up stepping back and doing other work for a while. I remember feeling strangely embarrassed by how disoriented I was. Especially after spending years helping other people navigate their faith.

There’s something humbling about being the one who suddenly doesn’t know what God is doing.

But looking back now, I can see God was doing deeper work in me during that season than I understood at the time.

The slowing down exposed how much of my identity had become tied to being useful.

It also exposed how transactional my prayer life sometimes was.

I didn’t think of it that way then, but I can now.

I wanted prayer to produce clarity. Direction. Open doors.

Instead, prayer became the place where God slowly kept my heart from hardening while I waited.

That’s different.

And honestly, more important than I realized at the time.

There’s an older man I’ve known for years who prayed for his son almost every single day.

Not in a dramatic way either.

Mostly quiet prayers. Faithful ones.

His son spent years angry at God. Angry at the church too if we’re being honest. There were stretches where he wouldn’t answer his dad’s calls for weeks.

I remember asking him once how he kept carrying that without getting bitter.

He shrugged for a second before answering.

Then he said, “I talk to the Lord about him too much to fully give up on him.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Not because it sounded profound. Honestly it didn’t at the time.

It just sounded true.

And over the years I noticed something else.

The father kept getting softer somehow.

Not weaker. Softer.

More patient.
More compassionate toward struggling people.
Less quick to judge other parents.

I think years of prayer had slowly shaped the way he carried pain.

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One moment in Hannah’s story stays with me

After praying, before anything changes externally, Scripture says:

“Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad.”
1 Samuel 1:18 (ESV)

I don’t think that means she suddenly felt amazing.

It just feels quieter than that.

Steadier maybe.

Like something loosened a little after bringing the truth fully before God.

I’ve felt that before.

Not every time I pray. Sometimes prayer still feels difficult and distracted and unfinished.

Sometimes I’m mentally making grocery lists halfway through. I assume pastors are probably not supposed to admit that either.

But there have been moments where prayer did not remove the situation, yet somehow kept the situation from swallowing me entirely.

And over time, I’ve started believing that staying connected to God during suffering changes a person.

Not quickly usually.

But deeply.

I think Jesus is gentler with weary people than we expect

That’s something I keep noticing in the Gospels.

Jesus does not seem irritated by exhausted people.

The disciples fall asleep while He’s suffering in Gethsemane and somehow He still moves toward them with compassion.

People bring Him fear, confusion, grief, doubt, desperation. He doesn’t shame them for needing Him too much.

And honestly, I think some Christians carry an image of God that becomes colder the more tired they become.

As if eventually God gets frustrated that we’re still struggling with the same fears and disappointments.

But that’s not really the Jesus I see in scripture.

I see a God who keeps inviting weary people closer.

Not because they’re impressive.

Because they’re tired.

That changes prayer for me.

Prayer becomes less about proving my faith and more about staying near someone good while life remains complicated.

I still believe prayer works

Not because every story resolves the way I hoped.

Some don’t.

But because I’ve watched prayer keep people connected to Jesus through things that should have completely emptied them out.

I’ve watched Him sustain people quietly for years.

And sometimes, years later, you look back and realize God was doing far more than you understood in the moment.

Not always changing circumstances immediately.

Sometimes He changes the way people carry things.

I’ve seen that happen.

If prayer feels heavy right now, the goal is not to force yourself into sounding hopeful all the time.

Maybe the invitation is simpler than that.

Just keep bringing the real thing to God.

The disappointment.
The confusion.
The small remaining hope.
All of it.

Not because you need to perform faith well.

Because Jesus still stays near tired people.

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I remember a season when everything got quiet.
Not peaceful quiet. The kind that makes you wonder if something’s wrong.
No messages. No noise. No momentum.
Just you and whatever you’ve been avoiding.

At first, I didn’t like it.

If I’m honest, I tried to fill it. More noise. More content. More conversations that didn’t really go anywhere. Anything to avoid that stillness. Because stillness has a way of bringing things to the surface. Things you’d rather keep buried.

And if you’re honest, you’ve probably wondered:
Did I miss something?
Did God pull back?
Or is this just what faith feels like now?

But over time, something changed.

For a while, I thought God was abandoning me, but I realized that He was inviting me into something better.

And that’s where this conversation begins.

Elijah in the Wilderness

If we’re going to talk about isolation, we have to talk about Elijah.

In 1 Kings 18, Elijah stands on Mount Carmel and calls down fire from heaven. It’s one of the most dramatic, powerful moments in all of scripture. God answers. The people fall on their faces. It’s revival-level stuff.

And then everything falls apart.

In 1 Kings 19, Queen Jezebel threatens his life. Elijah runs. Not just a short distance. He runs into the wilderness, sits under a broom tree, and says something that feels painfully human:

“It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life.” (1 Kings 19:4)

This is the same man who just saw fire fall from heaven.

And now he’s alone. Exhausted. Afraid. Done.

Isolation has a way of doing that. It strips away the momentum. It quiets the applause. It removes the crowd. And suddenly, you’re left with what’s really going on inside.

But here’s what’s important.

God led him there.

Not to destroy him. Not to punish him.

To restore him.

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Isolation Isn’t Always the Enemy

We tend to treat isolation like a problem to fix.

We say things like:
“I just need to get back around people.”
“I need to stay busy.”
“I can’t let myself sit here too long.”

And there’s truth in that. We weren’t made to live disconnected lives. Community matters deeply. The church matters. Relationships matter.

But sometimes the isolation isn’t something to escape.

It’s something to walk through.

Because God does some of His deepest work when the noise fades.

Think about it.

• Moses had the wilderness before he had the burning bush.

• David had the fields before he had the throne.

• Paul had years of obscurity before he had influence.

• Even Jesus had the wilderness before public ministry.

There’s a pattern here.

Before God uses someone publicly, He often shapes them privately.

And that shaping usually happens in isolation.

What Isolation Reveals

When Elijah sits under that tree, his words reveal something deeper than fear.

They reveal exhaustion. Disappointment. Maybe even a sense that all his effort didn’t change as much as he hoped.

Isolation has a way of pulling those things out of us.

It reveals:

• What we actually believe about God

• What we rely on when everything else is stripped away

• Where we’ve been running on empty

You don’t discover those things in a crowd.

You discover them when it’s quiet.

When there’s no distraction.

When you can’t outrun your own thoughts.

And that can feel uncomfortable.

But it’s also incredibly honest.

God Meets Us Differently in Isolation

Here’s what I love about Elijah’s story.

God doesn’t show up with a lecture.

He doesn’t say, “Why are you so weak?”
He doesn’t say, “You should be better than this.”

Instead, God starts with something simple.

Food. Rest.

“And he lay down and slept under a broom tree… and behold, an angel touched him and said to him, ‘Arise and eat.’” (1 Kings 19:5)

Before God speaks to his calling, He cares for his condition.

That matters.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing God wants you to do is rest.

Then later, Elijah stands on the mountain, and God reveals Himself.

Not in the wind.
Not in the earthquake.
Not in the fire.

But in a low whisper.

“And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.” (1 Kings 19:12)

You don’t hear whispers in crowds.

You hear whispers in quiet places.

Isolation tunes your ear to a different frequency.

The Lesson I Didn’t Expect

I remember the first time I stepped into full-time work from home. I had done freelancing before, but this was different. This was the kind of rhythm where you wake up, stay in your pajamas, and move straight into your day. I thought I’d handle it well. I’ve always been more introverted, so the quiet didn’t intimidate me.

I remember finishing a full day of work, closing my laptop and realizing I hadn’t talked to a single person.

The quiet started to reveal something deeper. It exposed a longing I didn’t realize was there. A desire to be around people. To speak into their lives. To be part of something bigger than my own space.

God used that season to shift something in me. Instead of withdrawing, I began to reach out. Instead of settling into isolation, I started to value community in a deeper way. What I thought would be an easy season actually became a formative one.

God used the quiet to remind me that I wasn’t created to do life alone.

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The Danger of Misreading Isolation

Here’s where a lot of people get stuck.

They interpret isolation as rejection.

“No one’s reaching out.”
“I must not matter.”
“God must be distant.”

But isolation doesn’t always mean God is absent.

Sometimes it means He’s being intentional.

Elijah thought he was alone.

“I, even I only, am left.” (1 Kings 19:10)

But God gently corrects him:

“I will leave seven thousand in Israel… all the knees that have not bowed to Baal.” (1 Kings 19:18)

Elijah wasn’t alone.

He just couldn’t see clearly in that moment.

Isolation can distort your perspective if you’re not careful.

It can make things feel final when they’re actually temporary.

It can make you believe lies that sound true because they echo in the silence.

That’s why it matters what you do with the quiet.

What God Does in Isolation

Let’s get really practical.

What is God actually doing in these seasons?

1. He detoxes your dependence on people

That sounds harsh, but it’s necessary.

We were never meant to get our identity from people’s responses.

Not from praise.
Not from attention.
Not from being needed.

Isolation removes those things.

And at first, it feels like loss.

But over time, it becomes freedom.

“Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe.” (Proverbs 29:25)

2. He rebuilds your inner life

When Elijah was surrounded by activity, he didn’t have time to process.

But in the wilderness, everything slows down.

God begins to rebuild him from the inside out.

This is where:

• Character deepens

• Faith matures

• Motives get refined

You can’t shortcut this.

3. He clarifies your assignment

After the whisper, God gives Elijah direction again.

New assignments. New clarity.

Isolation often precedes clarity.

Because when everything else quiets down, God’s voice becomes clearer.

4. He prepares you for what’s next

The wilderness is not the destination.

It’s preparation.

Elijah doesn’t stay there forever.

Neither will you.

But what you gain there… you carry into the next season.

The Season I Thought It Was Over

I walked through a season where I truly believed ministry was finished for me. Not because I had done something wrong, but because a door I thought God had opened was suddenly shut. The church I was connected to moved on, and I was left in a quiet place I didn’t choose.

I had to step back and find other work for a time. It felt like everything had slowed down. Like I had been pulled out of the thing I was called to do.

But that season did something in me I couldn’t have experienced any other way. It taught me to rely on Jesus in a deeper way. Not on a position, not on an opportunity, but on Him. It repositioned my heart before it repositioned my life.

Looking back, I can see it clearly now. That wasn’t the end. It was preparation. The isolation didn’t take anything from me. It refined me for what God had next.

Isolation vs. Loneliness

Let’s make an important distinction.

Isolation is a circumstance.

Loneliness is an interpretation.

You can sit in a full room and feel invisible.
Or sit alone with God and feel fully known.

The goal isn’t just to escape isolation.

The goal is to meet God in it.

David writes:

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?” (Psalm 139:7)

Even in isolation, God is there.

Especially there.

A Gentle Warning

Isolation can be holy.

But it can also become hiding if we’re not careful.

There’s a difference between:

• God leading you into a quiet season

• You withdrawing out of fear, hurt, or avoidance

One leads to healing.

The other leads to stagnation.

So ask yourself honestly:

“Am I here because God led me here or because I’m trying to protect myself?”

That question matters.

Jesus and Isolation

We can’t ignore this.

Jesus Himself practiced intentional isolation.

“But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray.” (Luke 5:16)

Notice that word.

Withdraw.

Not escape. Not hide.

Withdraw.

There’s purpose in it.

Jesus stepped away from the crowds regularly.

Not because He didn’t love people.

But because He needed to stay aligned with the Father.

If Jesus needed that… we definitely do.

If this is hitting close to home, don’t just read it.
Sit with it. Write something down.
God often speaks in the space we usually rush past.

What If This Season Isn’t a Setback?

Let me ask you something.

What if this quiet season isn’t a delay?

What if it’s actually alignment?

What if God is not removing you from something…

But preparing you for something?

It’s hard to see that in the moment.

Elijah couldn’t see it.

But God wasn’t finished with him.

And God’s not finished with you either.

Walking Through Isolation Well

Let’s land this in a really practical way.

Here’s a simple checklist you can come back to:

When You Feel Isolated, Remember:

• Don’t panic. This season may be purposeful, not permanent.

• Stay honest with God. Say what you’re actually feeling.

• Take care of your body. Rest matters more than you think.

• Limit noise. Create space to hear God’s voice clearly.

• Anchor yourself in scripture. Let truth shape your perspective.

• Resist false narratives. Isolation does not equal abandonment.

• Stay lightly connected. Don’t fully withdraw from healthy relationships.

• Ask what God is forming in you, not just what He is doing around you.

• Be patient. Growth in hidden places takes time.

• Expect renewal. God doesn’t waste quiet seasons.

Final Thought

Elijah thought it was the end.
God knew it was the middle.

And if this season feels quiet for you,
it may not be absence.
It may be preparation.

And if you find yourself there right now, don’t rush out of it too quickly.

There might be a whisper waiting for you.

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I remember sitting across from a friend at a coffee shop a few years ago. Not a casual “how’s the weather” kind of conversation, but one of those moments where you can feel the weight of what’s about to be said.

He looked at me and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before…”

And in that moment, I realized something.

Most people don’t lack relationships.
They lack safe relationships.

They have people around them but not people they can be known by.

That’s what makes the friendship between David and Jonathan so powerful. It’s not just a nice Bible story. It’s a picture of the kind of friendship we actually longing for.

Let’s step into their story for a minute.

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A Friendship That Didn’t Make Sense

📖 1 Samuel 18:1
“The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”

This is one of those verses that’s easy to read quickly and miss how deep it really is.

Jonathan was the king’s son.
David was the rising threat to the throne.

By every cultural expectation, they should have been competitors.

But instead of competing, they connected.

That’s the first lesson:

Real friendship isn’t built on convenience. It’s built on connection.

They didn’t choose each other because it made sense politically.
They chose each other because something in their spirits aligned.

If we’re honest, most of us build friendships around proximity.
Work.
Church.
Shared interests.

But David and Jonathan remind us there’s a deeper level.

A God-formed connection.

A Friendship That Costs Something

📖 1 Samuel 18:4
“Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David…”

This wasn’t just generosity.

This was symbolic.

Jonathan was handing over his royal identity.
His future.
His position.

In other words, he was saying:

“I’m not going to fight you for what God has for you.”

That’s rare.

Because a lot of relationships feel supportive, until calling and purpose get involved.

That’s when comparison creeps in.
Jealousy whispers.
Competition quietly takes over.

But Jonathan shows us something different:

Real friendship celebrates your calling, even when it costs me something.

It’s the kind of friendship that says:

“I see what God is doing in your life and I’m for you.”

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A Friendship That Tells the Truth

📖 1 Samuel 20:9
“If I knew that it was determined by my father that harm should come to you, would I not tell you?”

Jonathan didn’t just care about David.
He protected him with truth.

And this matters more than we like to admit.

Because it’s easy to surround ourselves with people who:
• Keep things light
• Avoid hard conversations
• Tell us what we want to hear

But that’s not real friendship.

Real friendship tells the truth even when it’s uncomfortable.

Not harshly.
Not arrogantly.

But honestly.

Proverbs says, “Faithful are the wounds of a friend” (Proverbs 27:6).

That kind of honesty doesn’t destroy relationships.
It strengthens them.

A Friendship That Stays Loyal

📖 1 Samuel 20:17
“And Jonathan made David swear again by his love for him, for he loved him as he loved his own soul.”

David’s life was unstable.

He was being hunted.
Forced to run.
Living in caves.

It would’ve been easy for Jonathan to distance himself.

But he didn’t.

He stayed.

Real friendship doesn’t disappear when life gets hard.

It doesn’t ghost you when things get messy.
It doesn’t fade when you’re no longer convenient.

It stays.

And if you’ve ever had someone stay with you in a hard season, you know how powerful that is.

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A Friendship Rooted in God

📖 1 Samuel 23:16
“And Jonathan, Saul's son, rose and went to David at Horesh, and strengthened his hand in God.”

This might be the most important piece of all.

Jonathan didn’t just encourage David emotionally.

He pointed him back to God.

That’s the difference between a good friend and a godly friend.

A godly friend strengthens your faith, not just your feelings.

They remind you of truth when you’re tired.
They speak life when you’re discouraged.
They help you see what God is doing when you’ve lost perspective.

They don’t replace God.
They point you back to Him.

Let’s Be Honest for a Second

Most of us want a friendship like David and Jonathan.

But if we’re honest, we don’t always build friendships like that.

We keep things surface level.
We avoid vulnerability.
We hesitate to speak truth.
We pull back when things get inconvenient.

And then we wonder why we feel alone.

What This Means for You

So what do we do with this?

Let me make it simple and practical:

1. Ask God for the right people

Not just more people.
The right people.

📖 Proverbs 18:24
“There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”

2. Go first in vulnerability

Someone has to take the first step.
It might as well be you.

3. Celebrate, don’t compete

When someone around you is winning, choose joy.

4. Speak truth with grace

Say the hard thing.
But say it with love.

📖 Ephesians 4:15
“Speaking the truth in love…”

5. Be the friend you’re praying for

Don’t just look for a Jonathan.

Become one.

Final Thought

At the end of the day, David and Jonathan’s friendship points us to something even greater.

Because no human friendship can fully carry the weight our hearts are looking for.

That’s why Jesus steps in and says:

📖 John 15:13
“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”

Jesus doesn’t just model friendship.

He becomes the friend our souls need.

The one who knows us fully.
Loves us completely.
And never walks away.

If this stirred something in you, don’t just move on.

Take a minute and ask yourself:

Who do I have in my life like this?
And who am I becoming to others?

And if someone came to mind while you were reading this, reach out to them.

That might be the start of the kind of friendship you’ve been praying for.

If this encouraged you, share it with someone who comes to mind. And I’d love to hear from you.

What has friendship looked like in your life?

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Most people aren’t looking for a crowd.

They’re looking for one or two people who:

• Know the real story

• See the cracks

• And don’t walk away when they do

That’s why the friendship between David and Jonathan hits so deep.

Because it’s not surface-level.

It’s not convenient.

It’s not built on proximity or shared hobbies.

It’s built on something stronger.

When David Found Jonathan

David shows up in 1 Samuel 17 as the kid nobody expected.

He’s overlooked by his family.
Undervalued by others.
Sent to deliver lunch… not win battles.

And then he kills Goliath.

You would think that moment would solve everything.

It didn’t.

Because right after that victory… his life gets complicated fast.

Saul grows jealous.
His future becomes uncertain.
His calling puts a target on his back.

And right in the middle of all that tension…

Jonathan steps in.

“The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”
— 1 Samuel 18:1

That phrase… “knit together.”

That’s not casual.

That’s deep connection.

That’s the kind of friendship that doesn’t happen every day.

1. Real Friends See God In You Before You Fully See It Yourself

Jonathan was the king’s son.

He had everything to lose.

Position.
Power.
Inheritance.

And yet… when he looks at David, he doesn’t see a threat.

He sees something God is doing.

“Then Jonathan made a covenant with David… and gave him his robe and his armor.”
— 1 Samuel 18:3–4

That wasn’t just generosity.

That was identity transfer.

Jonathan was saying:
“I see who you’re becoming… and I’m not competing with it.”

That’s rare.

Because most people don’t know how to celebrate what God is doing in someone else when it costs them something.

But real friends?

They don’t compete.
They confirm.

2. Real Friends Protect You When You’re Under Pressure

David didn’t just need encouragement.

He needed protection.

Because Saul wanted him dead.

And Jonathan stepped right into the middle of that tension.

“Jonathan spoke well of David to Saul his father…”
— 1 Samuel 19:4

He advocated for him.
Defended him.
Stood between him and harm.

That’s what real friendship looks like.

Not just “I’m here for you” when it’s easy…

But “I’ve got your back” when it’s complicated.

Let’s be honest.

A lot of people disappear when things get messy.

But the right ones?

They lean in.

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3. Real Friends Tell You The Truth… Even When It Hurts

This is where it gets even deeper.

Jonathan didn’t just encourage David.

He also helped him face reality.

When David needed clarity about Saul’s intentions, Jonathan didn’t sugarcoat it.

He told him the truth.

Because real friendship isn’t just about comfort.

It’s about honesty.

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend…”
— Proverbs 27:6

A real friend will say:
“Hey… I love you too much to let you keep going like this.”

Not to tear you down.

But to help you grow.

4. Real Friends Strengthen Your Faith

One of my favorite moments in their story is found in 1 Samuel 23.

David is hiding.
Running.
Exhausted.

And Jonathan finds him.

“Jonathan… went to David at Horesh and helped him find strength in God.”
— 1 Samuel 23:16

Not strength in himself.

Not strength in hustle.

Strength in God.

That’s the difference.

Anyone can hype you up.

But a real friend will point you back to the Lord when your soul is tired.

They’ll remind you:
“God hasn’t forgotten you.”
“This season isn’t wasted.”
“Keep going.”

So Why Does This Feel So Rare?

Because it is.

Not everyone is Jonathan.

And you’re not meant to be deeply connected to everyone.

Jesus had crowds.
Then 70.
Then 12.
Then 3.

Depth always narrows.

And that can feel discouraging if you’re looking for connection in the wrong places.

What Do You Do If You Don’t Have This Kind of Friendship?

Let me say this first.

You’re not weird.
You’re not too much.
You’re not asking for something unrealistic.

You’re asking for something biblical.

So don’t settle for shallow just because it’s common.

But also don’t sit back and wait.

Here’s where this gets practical.

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5 Ways To Build The Kind of Friendship David and Jonathan Had

1. Be the friend you’re looking for
Encourage first. Show up first. Care first.
You don’t find deep friendships by waiting… you build them by initiating.

2. Choose depth over quantity
You don’t need 20 people.
You need 1–2 who really know you.

3. Let people see the real you
This is the hard part.
Surface-level conversations create surface-level relationships.

Take the risk.

4. Pay attention to who shows up consistently
Not just when it’s convenient.
Not just when things are fun.
But when it’s hard.

Those people matter.

5. Invite God into your friendships
Pray for the right people.
Ask God to shape you into the right kind of friend too.

Because this isn’t just about finding Jonathan.

It’s about becoming one.

What Most People Don’t Talk About

David had Jonathan.

But he still spent seasons alone.

Running.
Hiding.
Waiting.

Even the best friendships don’t remove every hard season.

But they remind you that you’re not alone in them.

Before you scroll away…

If you’ve been feeling like:
“I don’t really have people like that.”

Don’t lose heart.

God sees that.

And He cares about that more than you think.

Psalm 68:6 says:

“God sets the lonely in families…”

That includes spiritual family.

That includes friendships.

So keep showing up.
Keep being real.
Keep trusting God with your relationships.

The right people are worth the wait.

If This Resonated With You…

This is why I write.

Not to give perfect answers.
To remind you:

• You’re not crazy for wanting real connection.

• You’re not alone in feeling this way.

• And God is still working in your life. Even in this.

If this encouraged you, subscribe and be part of this community.

And if you want to support what I’m building here, you can do that too.

Either way. I’m glad you’re here.

I remember sitting in my truck one evening, engine running, hands still on the steering wheel like I was waiting for something, but I didn’t even know what.

It had been one of those days.

Not terrible. Not dramatic. Just heavy.

The kind of day where you show up for everyone else, say the right things, smile at the right moments, and then realize no one really asked how you were doing.

And honestly, I didn’t even know how I was doing.

I just sat there thinking,

Man, it would be nice to have someone who just gets it.

No fixing.
No advice.
No pressure to be “on.”

Just someone who sees you and stays.

The Thing We Don’t Always Say Out Loud

We all want that kind of friend.

But here’s the tension most people carry quietly:

“I don’t know if I actually have that person.”

Or maybe even deeper:

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had that person.”

We’ve got acquaintances.
We’ve got group chats.
We’ve got people we laugh with on Sundays.

But when life gets quiet, or heavy, or confusing.

It can feel like you’re walking through it alone.

And if we’re honest, that loneliness hits harder when you’re the one who is usually strong for everyone else.

You’re the encourager.
The helper.
The one people call.

But who do you call?

A Friend Who Stayed

There’s this moment in the life of David that I keep coming back to.

But to really feel it, you have to understand what led up to it.

David wasn’t just having a bad day.

His life had completely unraveled.

The same king who once brought him into the palace.
The same man he served, honored, and refused to harm.

Now wanted him dead.

Saul had turned on him.

Not quietly. Not subtly.

Spears thrown.
Soldiers sent.
Orders given.

David went from playing music in the palace to running for his life in the wilderness.

Caves became home.
Fear became constant.
Isolation settled in.

And you have to wonder.

Did he start questioning everything?

God, I thought You anointed me for something, so why does it feel like I’m losing everything?

How did I go from promise to this?

And then Jonathan shows up.

Which, if you think about it, is kind of wild.

Jonathan is Saul’s son.

He has every reason to distance himself from David.
To protect his position.
To stay quiet and safe.

Instead, he goes looking for him.

Scripture says:

“Jonathan went to find David and helped him find strength in God.” (1 Samuel 23:16)

Don’t miss that.

David didn’t go find Jonathan.

Jonathan went and found David.

In the middle of the caves.
In the middle of the fear.
In the middle of the questions.

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And what did he do when he got there?

He didn’t fix David’s situation.

He didn’t overthrow Saul.
He didn’t hand him a strategy.
He didn’t say, “Hey, I talked to my dad, you’re good now.”

He just helped him find strength in God.

Maybe he reminded him of the anointing.
Maybe he spoke truth when David’s thoughts were spiraling.
Maybe he just sat there and said, “I’m with you.”

We’re not given all the details.

But we’re shown what matters.

He showed up.
He stayed.
He strengthened.

And that’s the kind of friend everyone needs.

Not the one who has all the answers.
Not the one who disappears when things get complicated.

But the one who walks into your hard season and helps you remember who God is when you’re struggling to see it yourself.

Not a Savior. Just Faithful.

We tend to think great friendship looks like having all the right words.

But most of the time, it looks like presence.

It looks like:

“I don’t fully understand what you’re going through, but I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s someone who reminds you of truth when your thoughts get loud.

Someone who doesn’t disappear when things get inconvenient.

Someone who doesn’t need you to be impressive to stay connected.

Just faithful.

Here’s the Honest Part

A lot of people are waiting for that kind of friend.

But very few people are becoming that kind of friend.

And I get it.

We’re busy.
We’re tired.
We’ve been hurt too.

Sometimes we hold back because we don’t want to be disappointed again.

But if we’re not careful, we end up building lives where we’re surrounded by people, and yet, still alone.

The Reframe

What if the kind of friend you’re longing for is the kind of friend God is inviting you to become?

Not perfectly.
Not for everyone.
But for someone.

Because here’s the truth:

God often meets people through people.

And while you might be waiting for someone to show up for you.

There’s a chance someone in your life is quietly hoping you show up for them.

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What This Actually Looks Like (In Real Life)

Let’s keep this simple and real.

If you want to build this kind of friendship, here are a few ways to start:

1. Check in without a reason

Don’t wait for a crisis.

A simple “Hey, I was thinking about you. How are you really doing?” goes further than you think.

2. Listen more than you fix

You don’t need the perfect response.

Most people just need space to be honest without being corrected or rushed.

3. Be consistent, not intense

Friendship isn’t built in big moments.

It’s built in small, repeated ones.

A text. A call. A coffee. Again and again.

4. Say the encouraging thing out loud

If you think something good about someone—say it.

Don’t assume they already know.

5. Stay when it gets uncomfortable

This is the big one.

When things get messy or awkward, don’t disappear.

That’s when your presence matters most.

6. Let yourself need people too

This one’s hard.

But friendship isn’t one-sided.

Let people see you. Not just the strong version of you.

You’re Not As Alone As You Feel

If you’re reading this and thinking,

“I wish I had that kind of friend…”

I want you to hear this clearly:

You’re not strange for wanting that.

You’re not needy.
You’re not weak.
You’re human.

Even Jesus Christ had close friends.

He shared meals.
He brought people into moments others didn’t see.
He even asked them to stay with Him in His hardest hour.

You were never meant to do life alone.

And If You Don’t Have That Yet

Start small.

Ask God for one or two real connections.

Then take a step.

Send the text.
Start the conversation.
Open up a little.

It might feel awkward at first.

That’s okay.

Most meaningful things do.

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A Final Thought

That night in my truck, I eventually turned off the engine and went inside.

Nothing had magically changed.

But I remember thinking:

“I don’t need a hundred people. I just need a few real ones.”

And honestly. Even one.

If this resonated…

This is why I write. Because I know what it feels like to carry things quietly and wonder if anyone else gets it. If you’ve ever felt alone in your faith, in your life, or even in a room full of people:

• You’re not alone here

• You’re welcome here

If you want more encouragement like this, you can subscribe and be part of this growing community.

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You’ve prayed. You’ve waited. And now… something inside you stirs.

You think you’ve heard something, a whisper, a nudge, a sudden clarity you cannot quite explain.

But here’s the problem. Was that really God, or was it just your gut?

Or maybe that quiet voice of guilt is trying to steer you somewhere you are not sure you should go?

Recognizing God’s Voice

We have all been there, caught between faith and uncertainty. Wanting direction so badly you replay the moment over and over in your mind.

You do not want to rush ahead and make a decision that is not from Him.

But you also do not want to miss a moment when He is speaking honestly.

And here is the thing. You are not alone in that struggle. The Bible is full of people who had to pause, listen, and wrestle with the same question:

“Lord… was that You?”

The good news is that God is not hiding.

He is not playing some celestial game of keep-away with His voice.

He delights to guide His children.

The question is not whether He is speaking. It is whether we have learned to recognize Him when He does.

Did I Hear God’s Voice?

When we first moved out of state to the church we’re part of now, it honestly wasn’t easy.

Everything felt new.

The faces, the way services flowed, even the little unspoken traditions that everyone else seemed to know.

Some Sundays we left wondering if we’d misheard God entirely.

But over time, that started to change.

We had a few good conversations.

We prayed with people who quickly felt like friends.

And slowly, trust began to come easier.

What once felt foreign started to feel like family.

Looking back, I can see God’s hand in all of it, even in the awkward beginnings, showing us that His leading is worth following even when the road feels uncertain at first.

The Boy Who Heard a Voice in the Night

Samuel was just a boy when it happened.

He was serving in the temple under Eli. One night, he lay down to sleep when he heard it:

"Samuel, Samuel!" (1 Samuel 3:4, ESV)

Thinking it was Eli, he ran to him.

“I’m here. You called me.”

But Eli shook his head. “I didn’t call. Go lie down.”

It happened again.

And again.

Three times, Samuel heard the voice. Three times, he went to Eli. Three times he got it wrong.

Finally, Eli realized what was happening. He told Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” (1 Samuel 3:9, ESV)

Samuel went back to bed. The voice came again. And this time, he knew who it was.

The truth? Even someone as important as Samuel had to learn how to recognize God’s voice.

And so will we.

5 Steps to Recognizing God’s Voice

1. Expect God to Speak

If you believe God is silent, you won’t be listening.

"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me" (John 10:27, ESV).

Faith starts with expecting Him to speak into your life.

2. Test It Against Scripture

God will never tell you to do something that goes against His Word.

If the “word” you heard contradicts the Bible, it’s not from Him. Period.

3. Check the Fruit

God’s direction produces peace, clarity, and alignment with His character.

The enemy’s voice produces confusion, fear, and shame (Galatians 5:22–23).

4. Seek Wise Counsel

Samuel needed Eli’s guidance to recognize God’s voice. You and I need people who know

Him well and can confirm or challenge what we think we’ve heard (Proverbs 11:14).

5. Wait for Confirmation

God is not in a hurry. If it’s genuinely from Him, it will stand the test of time.

Patience can protect you from making an emotional decision.

Before you scroll away…

God is speaking. Not in riddles. Not in whispers meant to confuse you.

Your job is to lean in, stay in His Word, and test what you hear.

Don’t let fear of getting it wrong keep you from listening.

This week, make space for Him to speak, and be ready to say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.”

Originally published on August 25, 2025.

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I had a moment not too long ago where I was standing in a room full of people, and I had this strange thought.

“I don’t think I fit here. But I also don’t think I fit anywhere else either.”

It wasn’t that anyone was particularly rude or unkind.
No one said anything wrong.
I just had that quiet feeling in the back of my mind that I was a little different.

Not better.
Not worse.
Just different.

And if I’m being honest, I’ve felt that way in a lot of places in my life.

Too churchy for some groups.
Not churchy enough for other groups.
Too serious for some people.
Too laid back for others.
Too creative for the structured people.
Too structured for the creative people.

You ever feel like that?

Like no matter where you go, you sort of belong, but not completely.
You connect, but you still feel like an outsider just a little bit.

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

Now I’m starting to wonder if maybe that feeling has a purpose.

The Part No One Tells You

We spend a lot of our lives trying to find where we fit.

That makes sense.
We were made for community.
We were made for belonging.
We were not made to do life alone.

But here’s something I’ve noticed:

Some of the people God uses the most in scripture were people who didn’t fully fit in anywhere.

Think about it.

Moses didn’t fit in with the Egyptians, and he didn’t fully fit in with the Hebrews either.

David was the youngest brother, overlooked and forgotten in the field.

Elijah thought he was the only one left who still followed God.

Jeremiah was mocked and ignored by his own people.

Paul didn’t fit with the religious leaders anymore, and the Christians were afraid of him at first.

Even Jesus was constantly surrounded by people, and yet often misunderstood.

When you read the Bible, you start to notice a pattern.

God often calls people who feel like outsiders.

Not because He wants them to be lonely.
But because when you don’t fully fit into one group, you can love and reach more groups.

Maybe You Don’t Fit In Because You’re Not Supposed To

This might sound strange at first, but stay with me.

If you fit perfectly into every environment, you would probably just adapt to whatever environment you were in.

You would think like them.
Act like them.
Value what they value.
Chase what they chase.

But when you don’t fully fit, you start asking different questions.

You start noticing things other people don’t notice.
You start caring about things other people overlook.
You start seeing people that other people walk past.

And sometimes, that’s exactly why God put you there.

Not to fit in.
But to be different on purpose.

Jesus said something interesting in John 17. He prayed this to the Father about His followers:

“They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.” (John 17:16)

In other words, there should be something different about us.

Not weird for the sake of being weird.
Not rude.
Not arrogant.
But different in how we love.
Different in what we chase.
Different in how we treat people.
Different in what we value.

So maybe that feeling you have sometimes, that feeling of not fully fitting in, is not a flaw.

Maybe it’s a sign that you belong to a different kingdom.

A Hard & Comforting Truth

Here’s the hard truth first:

If you follow Jesus, there will be moments when you feel out of place.

Moments when conversations don’t sit right with you.
Moments when everyone else is chasing something you’re not chasing.
Moments when doing the right thing makes you stand out instead of blend in.

That’s part of it.

But here’s the comforting truth:

Not fitting in does not mean you don’t belong.

It just might mean you haven’t found your people yet.
Or it might mean God is using you right where you are, even if you feel different.

You can be different and still be deeply loved by God.
You can be different and still have a purpose.
You can be different and still belong in the family of God.

Actually, the Church at its best is not a place where everyone is the same.

It’s a place where people who never would have fit together anywhere else become family because of Jesus.

If You Feel Like You Don’t Fit In

If I could sit across from you right now, here’s what I would tell you.

1. Don’t change who you are just to be accepted by people who don’t see you.
Belonging that requires you to pretend is exhausting.

2. Ask God where you are supposed to serve, not just where you are supposed to fit.
Purpose often matters more than comfort.

3. Look for your people, not just a place.
Sometimes belonging is 3 or 4 people, not a whole room.

4. Remember that being different is not the same as being wrong.
Sometimes it just means you see the world a little differently.

5. Root your identity in Christ, not in where you fit socially.
People’s opinions change. God’s does not.

One More Thought

Some of the most meaningful friendships in my life didn’t start with, “Wow, we are exactly the same.”

They started with, “You too? I thought I was the only one.”

So if you feel like you don’t fit in, there’s a good chance there are other people around you who feel the exact same way.

And sometimes the people who feel like they don’t fit in are the very people who end up building the kind of community where others finally feel like they belong.

So maybe the goal is not to spend your whole life trying to fit in.

Maybe the goal is to follow Jesus so closely that He slowly leads you to the people you were meant to walk with all along.

And until then, if you feel a little different sometimes, a little out of place sometimes, a little misunderstood sometimes, you’re not alone.

Some of us feel that way too.

And somehow, God still uses people like that all the time.

Hey friend,

I was thinking about this the other day while sitting in the sanctuary before anyone else showed up.

Lights were low. Room was quiet. Just me, a guitar, and a long list of things in my life that I wish would move faster.

You ever feel like that?

Like you’re doing the right things.
Trying to be faithful.
Trying to grow.
Trying to trust God.

But nothing is changing.

You’re still in the same job.
Still in the same struggle.
Still in the same season.
Still praying the same prayers.

And if we’re honest, waiting is one of the hardest parts of following God.

Because we don’t mind working hard.
We don’t mind obeying.
We don’t even mind suffering if we know it’s doing something.

But waiting feels like doing nothing.
And that’s what makes it so hard on the soul.

Here’s the part most people don’t say out loud.

Waiting makes you start asking questions like:

• Did I miss God somewhere?

• Did I make a wrong decision?

• Did God forget about me?

• Am I just stuck?

Most people won’t say that in church.
But they will think it.

I’ve thought it. More than once.

And when you read scripture, you realize something that nobody really tells you when you first start following Jesus:

God does a lot of His work in the waiting.

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Joseph’s Life Didn’t Make Sense Either

Joseph is one of those stories we like to summarize in a few sentences.

“God gave Joseph a dream. Joseph went through some hard things. Then he became a leader in Egypt.”

But that summary skips about 13 years of waiting, confusion, and unfair situations.

God gave Joseph a dream as a teenager.

Then what happened?

He was betrayed by his brothers.
Sold as a slave.
Falsely accused.
Thrown in prison.
Forgotten by the very person he helped.

And the whole time, Joseph was waiting.

Waiting for the dream.
Waiting for God to do something.
Waiting for life to make sense.

But there’s a verse in Genesis that quietly explains what was really happening:

“And Joseph’s master took him and put him into the prison, the place where the king’s prisoners were confined, and he was there in prison. But the Lord was with Joseph...” (Genesis 39:20)

Not when he became second in command.
Not when the dream came true.

God was with Joseph in the pit.
God was with Joseph in the prison.
God was with Joseph in the waiting.

And I think that’s the part we need to remember.

Because we tend to think:

God is with me when things are working.
God is with me when doors are opening.
God is with me when prayers are being answered.

But scripture shows us something different.

God is with you even when nothing is changing.

One of the hardest lessons to learn is this:

Waiting is not wasted time.

Waiting is where:

• Character is built

• Pride is removed

• Faith becomes real

• Your identity gets rooted in Christ

• You learn to pray for real

• You learn that God is enough

• You learn obedience

• You learn patience

• You become the person God can trust with what you asked for

We want God to change our situation.
A lot of times, God is using the situation to change us.

Romans 8:29 says that God’s goal is not just to make your life work out.

His goal is to make you more like Jesus.

And that process is slow.
Slower than we like.
Slower than we would choose.

But it is always purposeful.

If You’re In A Waiting Season Right Now

If I could sit across the table from you with a cup of coffee, here’s what I would tell you.

Not as a preacher.
Just as a friend.

1. Don’t assume God is absent just because God is quiet.
Silence does not mean abandonment.

2. Do the next right thing.
You don’t need the whole plan. Just the next step.

3. Be faithful in small things.
Most of life is small, ordinary faithfulness.

4. Keep your heart soft.
Waiting can make people bitter if they’re not careful.

5. Talk to God honestly.
You don’t have to pretend with Him. The Psalms are full of honest prayers.

6. Don’t wait to live until life changes.
Don’t put joy on hold. Don’t put obedience on hold. Don’t put growth on hold.

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One More Thing

If you’re in a waiting season, this does not mean your life is on pause.

It just means God is working in ways you can’t see yet.

One day Joseph could look back and see what God was doing.

But he couldn’t see it in the pit.
He couldn’t see it in the prison.
He couldn’t see it while he was forgotten.

He could only see it later.

And a lot of us are in the “pit” or the “prison” part of the story right now.

So if that’s you, hear me:

Your life is not stuck.
Your life is not forgotten.
Your life is not pointless.
And this waiting season is not wasted.

God is doing something in you before He does something through you.

And as hard as it is, sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is:

Wake up.
Pray.
Do the next right thing.
And trust God with the timeline.

I know that’s easier said than done.

But you’re not alone in this.

A lot of us are waiting too.

— Chris

P.S. I’d love to hear from you.

What has been the hardest part of waiting in your life?
And what do you think God might be teaching you in this season?

And if you know someone who is in a waiting season right now, send this to them.
They might need the reminder that waiting is not wasted.

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If these posts have encouraged you, helped you think, or helped you stay close to God in a hard season, you can support this work by becoming a subscriber or buying me a coffee.

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Some of the most important lessons about leadership don’t happen on a stage. One of mine happened when I was a teenager.

It wasn’t during a sermon.
It wasn’t a big spiritual moment at the altar.
It was something much quieter.

I was a teenager in our church, and there was a Pastor there who seemed to always be around. Not just on Sundays. Everywhere.

One week you’d hear he was visiting someone in the hospital.
Another week he was helping a family move across town.
After church events he was the guy stacking chairs when everyone else had gone home.

I remember seeing him in the hallway once, praying with someone who looked like they had been crying for a while.

Nobody had asked him to perform.
Nobody was applauding.

He was just… serving.

At the time I didn’t have words for what I was watching. I was just a teenager trying to figure out life and faith like everyone else.

But I remember a quiet thought forming in my mind.

This is what shepherding looks like.

Not loud.
Not flashy.
Just faithful.

Looking back now, I realize something I couldn’t see then.

What I was watching in that church hallway was the same spirit Jesus showed His disciples the night before the cross.

The night He picked up a towel.

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The Night Everything Slowed Down

John 13 opens with a quiet but powerful scene.

Jesus and His disciples are gathered together for dinner.

But this wasn’t just any dinner. Scripture tells us something important right at the beginning:

“Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”
— John 13:1

Jesus knew what was coming.

He knew the cross was hours away.
He knew betrayal was already in motion.
He knew the weight of the world’s sin was about to fall on Him.

And yet in that moment, He chose to do something unexpected.

The room was set for the meal.

The basin was there.
The towel was there.

In that culture, when people walked into a home after traveling dusty roads in sandals, the lowest servant would wash their feet.

But that night there was no servant.

The disciples were there.

The towel was there.

But no one moved.

Then Jesus stood up.

He wrapped a towel around His waist.
He poured water into a basin.
And the Son of God began washing the disciples’ feet.

Even the feet of Judas.

Let that sink in for a moment.

The King of Heaven knelt on the floor and washed the feet of the man who would betray Him.

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This Is How the Kingdom Works

Jesus wasn’t just performing an act of kindness.

He was revealing something about the Kingdom of God.

After He finished, He asked them a simple question:

“Do you understand what I have done to you?”
— John 13:12

In other words,

Do you see what this means?

Jesus continued:

“If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
— John 13:14

Jesus had every right to be served.

But He chose to serve.

That’s the upside-down nature of the Kingdom.

The world tells us leadership is about power, influence, and recognition.

Jesus shows us leadership is about humility, love, and service.

He said it clearly in Mark 10:45:

“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

The towel in that upper room wasn’t just a moment.

It was a model.

The Part We Often Miss

Sometimes when we read this story, we assume it’s only about pastors or leaders.

But that’s not what Jesus was saying.

He wasn’t telling the disciples to admire the moment.

He was inviting them to imitate it.

Paul later described the church this way:

“…the whole body, joined and held together… when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.”
— Ephesians 4:16

Every believer has a role in the body of Christ.

Some preach.
Some lead.
Some teach.
Some serve quietly behind the scenes.

But when everyone participates, something beautiful happens.

The church grows.

People encounter Jesus.

The mission multiplies.

The Real Evidence of a Disciple

Jesus ended that evening with a statement that still challenges us today.

“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
— John 13:35

Notice what He didn’t say.

He didn’t say the world would recognize the church by its buildings.

Or its programs.

Or even its preaching.

He said the defining mark would be love.

And most of the time, love looks like service.

Quiet service.
Faithful service.
Unnoticed service.

The kind of service that reflects the heart of Christ.

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The Towel Is Still on the Table

I think about that Pastor I watched when I was younger sometimes.

At the time I thought I was watching someone help people.

What I was really watching was someone picking up the towel.

And the truth is, that invitation didn’t end in the upper room.

It still stands today.

Jesus said:

“Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”
— John 13:17

Not just if you understand them.

If you live them.

A Question for You

Where might Jesus be inviting you to pick up the towel?

Maybe it’s serving someone quietly.
Maybe it’s stepping into a role you’ve avoided.
Maybe it’s loving people in ways that cost you something.

The Kingdom still moves forward the same way it did that night in the upper room.

Through ordinary people who are willing to kneel.

Through hearts that say,

“Lord, use me.”

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I remember a moment when joy surprised me.

For years I served in the church I grew up in. Everything there felt familiar. I knew the families. I knew the rhythms of the place. If I had a question, there were pastors and staff I had known for years who would sit with me and listen.

It felt safe.

But somewhere along the way, something inside me began to stir.

I loved the people. I loved serving. Yet there was a quiet question forming in my heart that I could not seem to shake. It showed up in prayer, in quiet moments, in the spaces where you can’t hide from what God might be saying.

“Is there more?”

I did not ask that question lightly. Leaving would mean stepping away from the place that had shaped so much of my life.

Eventually the day came when I knew it was time.

Not because of conflict. Not because of failure. Simply because God was leading me into a new season.

And obedience meant letting go.

Leaving meant walking away from nearly twenty years of relationships. People who had watched me grow up. A church that had helped form my faith and my calling.

For a while, it felt like stepping into open space without knowing exactly where the ground would appear beneath my feet.

While we waited for God’s direction, I took a job as a worship leader. It was something I could do while working full-time and trying to discern what God was doing next.

And then something unexpected happened.

People began to notice.

Not the history I carried. Not the years of relationships behind me.

They simply saw the gift God had placed in my life.

For the first time in a long while, I found myself in a place where I was just using what God had given me. No long history. No built-in reputation. Just obedience and the calling God had placed on my life.

And people started recognizing it.

Not because they had known me for twenty years.
Not because they remembered the kid I used to be.

But because the gift God had put inside me was finally being used.

And in those moments something inside my heart leapt.

Not pride.
Not relief.

Just joy.

The quiet kind that settles deep in your soul when you realize God is actually using your life.

It reminded me of something Jesus said in Luke 6:22–23.

“Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you… Rejoice in that day and leap for joy.”

Joy shows up in strange places.

Sometimes it appears when God answers a prayer you have been praying for years.

Sometimes it shows up when God leads you somewhere unfamiliar so that the calling inside you can finally breathe.

What I have learned is this.

The moments when your heart leaps are often the moments when you realize God is actually using your life.

Not perfectly.
But purposefully.

And that kind of joy cannot be manufactured.

It is discovered when you trust God enough to follow where He leads.

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David Danced Before the Lord

Joy has a way of breaking out when people realize God is near.

You see it all throughout scripture. Moments where the presence of God becomes so real that people cannot stay composed. Their hearts leap. Their voices rise. Their worship becomes visible.

One of the clearest pictures of this happens in the life of David.

David had waited years for this moment. The Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God’s presence among His people, was finally coming to Jerusalem. The first time they tried to move it, they had done it their own way, and it ended in disaster. But this time David slowed down. The priests carried the ark the way God had commanded. Six steps into the journey they stopped and offered sacrifices, honoring the holiness of what they were doing.

And then something beautiful happened.

David began to dance before the Lord with all his might. Not carefully. Not cautiously. Just freely. He had even set aside his royal robes and put on a simple linen ephod, dressing like the priests and worshipers around him. In that moment he was not acting like a king. He was responding like a man overwhelmed by the goodness of God.

As the ark entered the city, the whole nation erupted in celebration. Shouting filled the streets. Trumpets sounded. The presence of God was returning to the center of their lives. And David danced because sometimes the only proper response to the presence of God is joy that cannot stay contained.

Why Joy Matters

Joy is not a personality trait.
It is a spiritual response to God’s work.

David’s story (like many others), shows this pattern.

God moves. People see it. Joy erupts.

We see this in Psalms 16:11:

“In your pressence there is fullness of joy.”

Not partial joy. Fullness.

If joy is missing from our faith, something deeper might be missing too.

Not effort.
Not discipline.
But the awareness of God’s pressence and work.

When you encounter God, your heart will leap.

If you’re struggling to cultivate joy, do this:

1. Write down three prayers God as answered in your life.

2. Express gratitude in worship

3. Tell someone about something God has done recently.

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About a year ago I stepped into a new role as Executive Pastor.

New church. New staff dynamics. New weight.

I wanted to do it well. I wanted to support my lead pastor faithfully. I wanted to lead with strength and calm. At the same time, my wife and I were adjusting to a move that meant leaving people we love. I was trying to stay connected to friends who felt left behind while also building trust in a new place.

I told myself I was fine.

But some evenings I would sit in my office after everyone left and just stare at the screen. Not because I had more to do. Because I felt empty in a way I could not explain.

Maybe you know that kind of tired.

You are not falling apart. You are still showing up. People still rely on you.

But something inside feels worn thin.

You pray, yet the words feel heavy.

You worship, yet your heart feels quiet.

And somewhere deep down, a question forms.

Why does this feel harder than I thought it would?

For a while I assumed I needed better time management. More discipline. A stronger mindset.

Then I noticed something I had read many times before.

Elijah.

Right after one of the greatest public victories of his life, he runs into the wilderness and collapses under a broom tree. In 1 Kings 19 he tells God he has had enough.

That part always stood out to me.

What I had not slowed down to see was what God did next.

He did not correct Elijah.

He let him sleep.

He sent food.

He let him sleep again.

Only after rest came direction.

“Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.”

The journey is too great for you.

Not because you are weak.

Because you are human.

Jesus later says in Matthew 11:28,

“Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Rest is not a reward for strength. It is a gift for the weary.

Isaiah writes that God gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Strength returns to those who admit they need it.

Psalm 23 says He restores my soul.

Restores.

That word assumes depletion.

Maybe your exhaustion is not a sign you are failing.

Maybe it is evidence you have been carrying more than you were meant to carry alone.

Maybe God is not disappointed in your fatigue.

Maybe He is inviting you closer in it.

There have been mornings this year when I have sat quietly before the day begins. No planning. No fixing. No asking for outcomes.

Just sitting.

At first it feels unproductive. Then something shifts. I remember I am a son before I am a leader. Loved before I am useful.

You are loved before you are useful.

If your soul feels tired, you are not behind. You are not disqualified. You are not spiritually immature.

You may simply be at the edge of your own strength.

And that is often where His presence becomes clearest.

Instead of pushing harder this week, consider coming closer.

Instead of proving something, consider resting.

The shepherd still leads weary people to green pastures.

And you are not failing.

You are being gently restored.

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Alright, let’s be real. Our world is obsessed with perfection. We filter our selfies, we edit our stories, we carefully curate our social media presence so that no one sees the mess. And if you say you don’t, I might believe you… but I also might suspect you live in a cave with no WiFi.

The pressure to be flawless isn’t just cultural. It’s deeply personal. We convince ourselves that our imperfections are obstacles. We think that if we could just smooth out the rough edges, we’d finally be worthy. But what if that’s completely backward? What if the very things we try to hide are actually the places where God shines the most?

Why Do We Hide Our Imperfections?

Since the dawn of time, literally back in Genesis, humans have been obsessed with covering up their flaws. Adam and Eve were the original “let’s pretend everything is fine” duo. The second they realized they were exposed, they grabbed some fig leaves and played hide-and-seek with God (Genesis 3:7). Spoiler alert. It didn’t work.

Fast forward a few thousand years and we’re still doing the same thing. We don’t use fig leaves anymore, thankfully, but we do hide behind curated images, carefully worded responses, and the never-ending pursuit of having it all together. Churches aren’t exempt from this either. We walk in smiling even if we barely made it out the door without a full-blown meltdown.

But here’s the thing. God never asked for our perfection. He asked for our surrender.

God’s Perspective

This is where things get wild. God isn’t turned off by your quirks, your struggles, or your weirdness. Yes, even the fact that you talk to your coffee like it’s a person. He actually delights in using the least likely people for the biggest assignments.

Take Paul, for example. The guy had an impressive resume but instead of bragging about his strengths, he did the opposite.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Translation? God is saying, “Hey, that thing you think disqualifies you? That’s actually where I’m going to show up the most.”

Moses had a speech problem (Exodus 4:10). David was the runt of the litter (1 Samuel 16:7). Peter was basically the human equivalent of a roller coaster with high highs and low lows. And yet, God called them anyway.

The Danger of Sterilizing Ourselves

When we try to strip away everything that makes us different, we don’t actually become better. We just become less real. We trade authenticity for acceptability. We become more concerned with fitting in than with walking in who God actually made us to be.

And that, my friend, is tragic.

Romans 12:2 says,

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

The world wants you to fit into a mold. God wants you to be transformed into something greater. Huge difference.

Jesus Wasn’t About That Perfect Life Either

Jesus wasn’t into polished appearances. He wasn’t rolling with the religious elite. He was hanging out with fishermen, tax collectors, and people with messy pasts. The religious leaders were scandalized but Jesus wasn’t trying to impress them.

Take the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11). The crowd wanted to condemn her but Jesus wasn’t playing that game. Instead, He turned the situation upside down, showing grace while calling her into a new way of life. He didn’t demand perfection. He offered transformation.

If Jesus, the literal Son of God, wasn’t about faking perfection, why on earth are we?

How to Embrace Your Uniqueness in Christ

Okay, so how do we stop pretending and start embracing who God actually made us to be? Here’s a game plan.

1. Remember You Were Designed by God

   • Psalm 139:14 says, “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

   • That means God didn’t mess up when He made you. Your quirks, your odd sense of humor, your slightly off-key singing voice. It’s all intentional.

2. Quit Playing the Comparison Game

   • Social media is a highlight reel, not real life. If you compare yourself to someone’s edited version of themselves, you’ll always feel like you fall short.

   • Galatians 1:10 says, “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God?”

   • God’s approval is greater than human validation. Every. Single. Time.

3. Let God’s Power Work Through Your Weaknesses

   • Instead of hiding your struggles, what if you surrendered them to God?

   • 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 reminds us that God works best when we admit we can’t do it alone.

   • Your weakness is not the thing that disqualifies you. It’s the very thing God wants to use.

4. Use Your Story Instead of Editing It

   • Your testimony, including the messy parts, is powerful.

   • Revelation 12:11 says, “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.”

   • Stop waiting until your life is picture-perfect to share what God has done. People don’t need another perfect Christian. They need someone who’s real.

5. Trust That You’re a Work in Progress

   • Philippians 1:6 reminds us, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion.”

   • You’re not finished yet and that’s okay. God isn’t looking for a polished final product. He’s looking for someone willing to keep showing up.

Just Be You (Seriously, It’s Biblical)

So, what if you stopped trying to be perfect? What if you leaned into the fact that God already knew everything about you, your strengths, your flaws, your coffee addiction, and He still chose you anyway?

The world doesn’t need more polished, plastic versions of people. It needs real ones. It needs people who aren’t afraid to be who God made them to be, quirks and all.

So, go be you. The real you. The one God made. The one who doesn’t have it all figured out but is still saying “yes” to Jesus anyway. Because that’s the person God is going to use.

And if anyone gives you a hard time about it, just remind them that Jesus picked Peter and Peter literally cut off a guy’s ear. So yeah. You’re doing just fine.

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I remember sitting with a friend who had reached the end of himself.

Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just quietly.

He said, “I don’t think I have joy anymore.”

He still loved God. He still showed up. But something inside him felt worn thin. Life had taken more than he expected. And if I’m honest, I’ve had moments like that too. Moments where joy felt fragile. Moments where it seemed tied to whether things were working or falling apart.

And maybe you’ve been there.

If you have, I want you to hear this from someone who genuinely cares about you. Real joy is not as fragile as it feels. Because real joy was never built on your circumstances. It was built on God’s presence.

And nowhere do we see this more clearly than in the story of Paul and Silas.

The Night Joy Showed Up in a Prison Cell

Paul and Silas did not end up in prison because they made a mistake. They ended up there because they obeyed God.

Acts 16 tells us they were in Philippi when they met a slave girl who was spiritually oppressed. She followed them around for days, crying out. Eventually, Paul commanded the spirit afflicting her to leave, and she was set free.

It was a miracle.

But her owners were furious. She had been making them money. And now that source of profit was gone.

So they dragged Paul and Silas before the authorities. Lies were told. Accusations were made. The crowd turned against them.

And without a fair trial, Scripture says this:

“The magistrates tore the garments off them and gave orders to beat them with rods. And when they had inflicted many blows upon them, they threw them into prison.” (Acts 16:22–23)

This was not symbolic.

This was violent.

Their backs were torn open. Their bodies were bruised and bleeding. And then the jailer locked their feet in stocks, forcing them into painful, unnatural positions. They were placed in the inner prison. The darkest, most secure part.

No comfort. No relief. No assurance they would survive.

If anyone had a reason to despair, it was them.

But then something unexpected happened.

“About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.” (Acts 16:25)

Not complaining.

Not questioning.

Singing.

Can you imagine it?

Two wounded men, sitting in the dark, chains on their feet, backs in agony. And instead of surrendering to despair, they lifted their voices in worship.

This is joy that does not break.

This is joy rooted in Someone greater than circumstances.

Psalm 16:11 says, “In Your presence there is fullness of joy.”

Even there, God was present.

And then, God responded.

“Suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s bonds were unfastened.” (Acts 16:26)

Chains fell.

Doors opened.

Freedom came.

But do not miss this. Joy showed up before the earthquake did.

Because joy was never dependent on the prison doors opening. Joy was dependent on God being near.

Joy Comes From God, Not Changing Circumstances

Paul later wrote these words while imprisoned again:

“Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice.” (Philippians 4:4)

Always.

That includes the hard seasons. The confusing seasons. The painful seasons.

Because joy is not something you produce. It is something God produces in you.

Galatians 5:22 says, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace…”

Joy grows where God’s Spirit is welcomed.

Nehemiah 8:10 says, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Not the joy of good news.

Not the joy of easy circumstances.

The joy of the Lord.

And He has not left you.

Jesus said in John 15:11, “These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.”

His joy.

Not temporary relief. Not fragile happiness. His joy.

And His joy survived the cross.

Which means it can survive your circumstances too.

Gratitude Helps You See What God Is Still Doing

One of the simplest ways to rediscover joy is gratitude.

Not fake positivity. Not denial of pain. Just honest recognition of God’s faithfulness.

1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 says,
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

Gratitude reminds your soul that God has not abandoned you.

It shifts your focus from what is broken to what is still held together by His hands.

I have personally walked through seasons where nothing made sense. But when I slowed down and began thanking God for small things, something changed inside me. My circumstances didn’t instantly change, but my heart did.

Joy quietly began to return.

Because God was still there.

And He is still there with you.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)

A Simple Checklist to Help You Strengthen Joy This Week

Not as pressure. As an invitation.

Daily Joy Checklist

• Write down three things you are thankful for. Even small things matter. Breath. Provision. A conversation. Strength for today.

• Thank God for each one out loud. Acknowledge His presence and faithfulness personally.

• Spend 5 minutes talking honestly with Jesus. No performance. Just honesty.

• Read one of these verses each day:

  • Philippians 4:4

  • Nehemiah 8:10

  • Psalm 16:11

  • John 15:11

  • Romans 15:13

• Play one worship song and listen carefully to the words. Let truth reset your perspective.

• Remind yourself of this truth: “My joy comes from God, not my circumstances.”

• Before you go to bed, thank God for carrying you through the day.

One Last Thing I Want You to Remember

Paul and Silas did not wait for the prison doors to open before they rejoiced.

They rejoiced because God was with them in the prison.

And He is with you too.

Romans 15:13 says,
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing.”

He fills you with joy.

Not when everything is perfect.

But when you stay close to Him.

This week, follow the checklist. Write down what you are thankful for. Talk to Him. Stay near.

And if this encouraged you, share it with someone who may need it too. You never know who is quietly fighting to hold on to hope.

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I would love to hear from you. What is one thing you are thankful for today?

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Joy is not gone.

It is waiting for you in His presence.

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You’ve prayed. You’ve waited. And now… something inside you stirs.

You think you’ve heard something, a whisper, a nudge, a sudden clarity you cannot quite explain.

But here’s the problem. Was that really God, or was it just your gut?

Or maybe that quiet voice of guilt is trying to steer you somewhere you are not sure you should go?

Recognizing God’s Voice

We have all been there, caught between faith and uncertainty. Wanting direction so badly you replay the moment over and over in your mind.

You do not want to rush ahead and make a decision that is not from Him.

But you also do not want to miss a moment when He is speaking honestly.

And here is the thing. You are not alone in that struggle. The Bible is full of people who had to pause, listen, and wrestle with the same question:

“Lord… was that You?”

The good news is that God is not hiding.

He is not playing some celestial game of keep-away with His voice.

He delights to guide His children.

The question is not whether He is speaking. It is whether we have learned to recognize Him when He does.

Did I Hear God’s Voice?

When we first moved out of state to the church we’re part of now, it honestly wasn’t easy.

Everything felt new.

The faces, the way services flowed, even the little unspoken traditions that everyone else seemed to know.

Some Sundays we left wondering if we’d misheard God entirely.

But over time, that started to change.

We had a few good conversations.

We prayed with people who quickly felt like friends.

And slowly, trust began to come easier.

What once felt foreign started to feel like family.

Looking back, I can see God’s hand in all of it, even in the awkward beginnings, showing us that His leading is worth following even when the road feels uncertain at first.

The Boy Who Heard a Voice in the Night

Samuel was just a boy when it happened.

He was serving in the temple under Eli. One night, he lay down to sleep when he heard it:

"Samuel, Samuel!" (1 Samuel 3:4, ESV)

Thinking it was Eli, he ran to him.

“I’m here. You called me.”

But Eli shook his head. “I didn’t call. Go lie down.”

It happened again.

And again.

Three times, Samuel heard the voice. Three times, he went to Eli. Three times he got it wrong.

Finally, Eli realized what was happening. He told Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” (1 Samuel 3:9, ESV)

Samuel went back to bed. The voice came again. And this time, he knew who it was.

The truth? Even someone as important as Samuel had to learn how to recognize God’s voice.

And so will we.

5 Steps to Recognizing God’s Voice

1. Expect God to Speak

If you believe God is silent, you won’t be listening.

"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me" (John 10:27, ESV).

Faith starts with expecting Him to speak into your life.

2. Test It Against Scripture

God will never tell you to do something that goes against His Word.

If the “word” you heard contradicts the Bible, it’s not from Him. Period.

3. Check the Fruit

God’s direction produces peace, clarity, and alignment with His character.

The enemy’s voice produces confusion, fear, and shame (Galatians 5:22–23).

4. Seek Wise Counsel

Samuel needed Eli’s guidance to recognize God’s voice. You and I need people who know

Him well and can confirm or challenge what we think we’ve heard (Proverbs 11:14).

5. Wait for Confirmation

God is not in a hurry. If it’s genuinely from Him, it will stand the test of time.

Patience can protect you from making an emotional decision.

Before you scroll away…

God is speaking. Not in riddles. Not in whispers meant to confuse you.

Your job is to lean in, stay in His Word, and test what you hear.

Don’t let fear of getting it wrong keep you from listening.

This week, make space for Him to speak, and be ready to say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.”

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I want to talk to you for a moment. Not as a teacher. Not as someone standing on a stage. Just as someone who has stood exactly where you are.

I remember standing in worship with my guitar strapped on, singing words I had sung a hundred times before. The band sounded great. The room was alive. Hands were lifted. Voices were strong.

And yet, my eyes kept drifting to the clock on the back wall.

Waiting.
Counting.
Wondering why my heart felt completely untouched.

Nothing was wrong on the outside.
Inside, I felt hollow.

Worship can quietly turn into something performance driven. You start thinking about the details instead of the devotion. Hit the notes. Stay on the click. Blend your voice. Smile at the right moments. Act like this song is doing something powerful.

So you do it. And you do it well.

Then the day ends. You’re tired. Exhausted, really. Your body aches. Your voice is worn thin. And when the room finally goes quiet, a question surfaces that you don’t want to admit out loud.

Did I even worship?

If that question has ever crossed your mind, I want you to hear this clearly. You are not broken. You are not faithless. And you are not alone.

Here’s an uncomfortable truth we rarely say out loud. If actors in Hollywood, with no faith and no relationship with the Savior, can recreate a church service so convincingly that it moves us emotionally on a screen, then it is possible to stand in worship, do all the right things, and feel absolutely nothing.

You can sound sincere.
You can look engaged.
You can even lead the moment.

And still miss the encounter.

That realization can feel unsettling, but it can also be freeing. Because it reminds us that worship was never meant to be fueled by emotion alone.

Jesus said that the Father is looking for worshipers who worship in spirit and in truth. Not atmosphere. Not adrenaline. Not goosebumps. Spirit and truth.

Which brings me to a story I come back to often when worship feels dry.

Paul and Silas didn’t find themselves in a worshipful environment. They were beaten. Publicly humiliated. Thrown into prison. Their feet were fastened in stocks. Their wounds were still open. The future looked uncertain at best.

And Scripture tells us this:

“About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”
Acts 16:25 ESV

Midnight matters. This wasn’t symbolic. It was late. Cold. Painful. Quiet in the way only suffering can be quiet.

They didn’t sing because the moment felt powerful.
They didn’t worship because relief had come.
They worshiped because God was still worthy.

Then something happened.

“And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s bonds were unfastened.”
Acts 16:26 ESV

God didn’t wait for their feelings to change.
He met them in their obedience.

I don’t want you to miss this. God did not free them before they worshiped. He met them when they chose to worship anyway.

Sometimes worship doesn’t feel alive because it’s no longer fueled by emotion. Sometimes it feels dry because it’s becoming honest. Because it’s becoming costly. Because it’s turning into what Scripture calls a sacrifice of praise.

A sacrifice costs something. It’s offered when silence would be easier. When quitting would make more sense. When the heart feels tired and the soul feels thin.

So if worship feels empty right now, don’t assume God is distant. Don’t assume something is wrong with you. And don’t walk away just because it doesn’t feel like it used to.

If you’re wondering where to even begin when worship feels like this, here are a few ways to make room for God again.

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Ways to Revive Your Worship

1. Strip it Down - Worship without the production. No band. No playlist hopping. One song. One voice. Clarity returns when the noise is gone.

2. Change the Setting - Sing in your car. Pray on a walk. Worship in a quiet room. New spaces can wake up a heart that’s grown used to routine.

3. Name What You’re Carrying - Tell God honestly if you’re tired, numb, disappointed, or frustrated. Worship does not require pretending. Honesty is the doorway.

4. Choose Truth Over Tone - Sing songs that declare who God is, even if your emotions lag behind. Let truth lead and allow feelings to follow when they’re ready.

5. Slow Everything Down - Sing fewer words. Pray shorter prayers. Sit in silence longer. Rushing often drowns out awareness.

6. Read Scripture Aloud - Let God’s Word shape your worship before music does. Read a Psalm slowly. Speak it. Let it reframe your heart.

7. Worship Before the Breakthrough - Don’t wait for relief to sing. Worship while you’re still in it. That’s often where God meets us most clearly.

8. Return to Gratitude - Thank God for what He has already done, even if today feels quiet. Gratitude has a way of reopening closed doors.

9. Be Faithful, not Dramatic - God honors consistency more than intensity. Small, quiet acts of worship matter more than you think.

10. Stay When it Would Be Easier to Leave - Sometimes revival doesn’t come from changing worship styles. It comes from refusing to walk away.

My Invitation to You

Pick one song. Just one. Sing it alone. No audience. No pressure. No rushing. Sing it slowly. Honestly. Not for the feeling. For His glory.

Then pay attention. Not just to what you feel, but to what shifts. Sometimes the breakthrough is peace. Sometimes it’s clarity. And sometimes it’s simply realizing God was with you the whole time.

If you’re still showing up when worship feels empty, that tells me something about you. Your faith runs deeper than emotion. And God sees that.

You’re not failing.
You’re being formed.

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I still remember a season when I was starving for God.

I was reading my Bible. Showing up to church. Doing everything I knew to do. But inside, something felt thin. Like I was surviving on crumbs when I knew there had to be more.

When you’re hungry like that, you listen more closely. You lean in. You’re open. And that’s not a flaw. It’s human.

But hunger, if we’re not careful, can also make us vulnerable.

Not to obvious lies. To voices that sound passionate, intense, confident, and spiritual.
Voices that talk a lot about Jesus, truth, purity, and being “awake.”

Scripture warns us that not every voice that sounds spiritual is safe.

Jesus Himself said, “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” (Matthew 7:15)

That warning wasn’t meant to make us paranoid. It was meant to make us discerning.

Wolves Rarely Look Like Wolves

Most harmful spiritual leaders don’t announce themselves as dangerous. They often appear as bold, convincing, and deeply certain they are right.

Jesus addressed this directly when He described the difference between true and false shepherds.

In John 10, He said:

“The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out… A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” (John 10:3–5)

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say.

He doesn’t tell the sheep to study wolves obsessively.
He doesn’t tell them to become suspicious of every voice.

He tells them to know His voice.

Discernment isn’t built by fear. It’s built by familiarity.

When you’re spiritually hungry, confident voices feel comforting. Certainty feels like safety. Passion feels like truth.

That’s why Jesus goes on to say:

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)

Here’s a simple question worth asking when listening to any spiritual voice:

• Is this leading me toward deeper life in Christ, or shrinking my world with fear, suspicion, and superiority?

The Good Shepherd leads people into freedom.
Strangers often lead people into dependence.

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A Healthy Model of Discernment

One of the most encouraging pictures of discernment in Scripture comes from an unlikely place.

In Acts 17, we’re told about the Bereans, who listened to the apostle Paul himself. And yet:

“Now these Jews were more noble than those in Thessalonica; they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so.” (Acts 17:11)

They were open, not cynical.
Eager, not gullible.
Respectful, not submissive.

They didn’t reject teaching. They tested it.
They didn’t isolate themselves. They examined together.

That’s the kind of spiritual environment where wolves struggle to survive.

One of the most painful things to watch is scripture being used to control instead of heal.

The Bible is meant to reveal Jesus, not replace Him.
To form us, not frighten us.
To guide us, not cage us.

When scripture is used primarily to draw lines, label enemies, or demand loyalty, something has gone off course.

Paul reminds us that “the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith.” (1 Timothy 1:5)

If love is shrinking, something is wrong.

The more you watch Jesus, the steadier things become.

He invited.
He questioned.
He listened.
He corrected gently.

Even when people walked away, He let them go.

He never rushed people into allegiance.
He never isolated His followers from others.
He never demanded unquestioning loyalty.

That tells us something important.

If a spiritual voice needs fear, pressure, or separation to hold influence, it is not walking in the way of Christ.

How to Stay Grounded and Safe

You don’t need to become cynical or suspicious to stay spiritually healthy.

A few simple anchors help more than you might think:

Stay connected to a real, imperfect community.
Invite trusted voices to speak into your life.
Give yourself permission to say, “I need time to discern this.”
Pay attention to your spirit, not just your agreement.

And most importantly, keep returning to Jesus Himself.

He is not anxious.
He is not threatened by questions.
He is not trying to rush you into anything.

He is gentle and lowly in heart.

If you’re hungry for God, that’s a good thing.
If you’re longing for depth, that’s holy ground.

Just remember this:

The voice of the Good Shepherd leads you into freedom, not fear.
Into humility, not superiority.
Into love, not isolation.

You don’t need to chase intensity to find Jesus.

He’s already near.

Before You Scroll Away…

If this helped you, consider sharing it with someone who’s sorting through a lot of spiritual noise right now. And if you want more reflections like this, you’re always welcome here.

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The Ache You Can’t Shake

Let me guess. You’re doing the things. Showing up to church. Opening the Bible. Bowing your head when someone says “Let’s pray.”

But inside? Dry. Disconnected. Like you’re performing a version of faith that once felt real, but now feels like a mask you keep putting on. The one that hides who you are underneath.

You don’t want more rules. You want God. But you’re not sure how to get there anymore.

Friend, hear me: You’re not faithless. You’re famished. And that hunger is holy.

Why the Routine Isn’t Enough Anymore

You were taught how to do church. But no one showed you how to be with God.
Somewhere along the way, intimacy got traded for obligation. Now your spiritual life feels like a treadmill you can’t get off. Moving, but going nowhere.

But here’s the truth: God doesn’t want your performance. He wants your presence.

And you can’t schedule your way into intimacy. You have to get hungry enough to drop the script and try something new.

Even Moses Wanted More

This isn’t just a modern problem. Moses saw miracles. He heard God’s voice. He walked with Him in power.

And still he said, “Show me Your glory.” (Exodus 33:18)

Because routines (even miraculous ones) aren’t the same as a relationship.

When the Pharisees Missed It Completely

Jesus looked straight at the most disciplined, biblically-literate people of His day and said:

"You search the scriptures because you think they give you eternal life. But the scriptures point to me! Yet you refuse to come to me to receive this life." (John 5:39-40)

They knew the Word, but they missed the Word made flesh standing right in front of them.

Spiritual growth isn’t about collecting knowledge. It’s about encountering Jesus.

When Martha Chose Service Over Presence

In Luke 10, Martha is doing everything right: serving Jesus, managing the house, and being responsible. But Mary? Mary just sat at His feet.

And Jesus said:

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:41-42)

Sometimes the biggest threat to spiritual growth is spiritual busyness.

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So What Do You Do When You’re Starving for God?

Let’s get honest. If you want real intimacy with God, it’s going to cost you your comfort. Here’s where to begin:

1. Quit pretending

Don’t fake closeness with God. He’s not impressed by masks, and He already sees your heart. So tell Him the truth. Say it out loud: “God, I’m doing the things, but I feel disconnected. I want you, not just another checklist.” That moment of honesty is where transformation begins.

2. Get quiet enough to hear Him

Your life is loud. And the volume won’t turn down on its own. Intimacy with God requires stillness; real, uncomfortable stillness. So unplug. Turn off the noise. Set your alarm. Wake up early. Sit before Him and say, “Speak, Lord. I’m listening.”

3. Trade formulas for presence

God doesn’t show up because you followed the right script. He shows up because you showed up. So instead of trying to “do devotionals right,” try just being with Him. Light a candle. Read one verse. Sit in silence. Let him meet you in the quiet without needing to feel productive.

4. Worship like your life depends on it

Because it does. Not just with music, but with your posture, your surrender, your focus. Worship in your car. In your kitchen. On your knees. You don’t need a band, you just need a heart willing to tell God the truth about His worth.

5. Let your hunger drive you

That ache you feel? It’s not a sign of failure, it’s a signal. Hunger is holy. Don’t ignore it. Follow it. Let it pull you deeper. Let it change your schedule. Let it wreck your routine. Because if you chase God with that hunger, you won’t come up empty.

The Good News: God Wants You Closer

Jesus didn’t die so you could have a once-a-week appointment with God.

He died to bring you home.

To walk with you. Talk with you. Sit with you.

The invitation still stands: “Come to Me…” (Matthew 11:28)

Not come to a feeling. Not come to a checklist. Come to Him.

Before You Scroll Away…

If this hit a nerve, don’t keep scrolling. Get real with God today. And share this with someone who’s been going through the motions but dying on the inside.

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This article was originally publish on August 5, 2025.