Though God’s unchanging character and unconditional love are comforting, I still struggle many times to communicate with him. Sometimes it’s because of severe trials which leave me depleted of energy and joy. At other times it’s boredom as I allow myself to get into a rut in my quiet time and start praying out of habit instead of focusing on my relationship with him. And sometimes I let sin remain in my life, which leaves me feeling convicted and uncomfortable in his presence.
The most challenging part of feeling disconnected from God is dealing with it as soon as possible so I don’t miss out on the blessings of his love and the fruit of the Spirit in my life. I’ve recently been having an extremely hard time praying, so much so that I’ve been giving up after about fifteen minutes, not managing to say more than a few words. While it’s taken several weeks to realize that I’ve started a pattern of avoiding him, I’m beginning to make out glimpses from the past that are strikingly similar to what I’m experiencing now. In fact, I’m seeing that I’ve been in this same place many times before. It’s a spiritual desert where dust is flying and there’s no sign of water. I know enough from the past that if I’m going to come through this dryness to a period of refreshing the worst thing I can do is to keep ignoring it. Instead, I desperately need to refocus on who God is, what he’s done for me and how he wants to use my life to make a difference in the world.
“I know that my Redeemer lives” (Job 19:25). Job wrote this in the midst of a spiritual crisis to remind himself that no matter how far away God seems, he’s living and ruling with power. I may feel tired and burned out, but I also have confidence that God is alive and reigning from his position of power in the heavenly places (Ps 47:8). At the same time, he’s tenderly caring for each of his children, including me (Ps 103:13). He gave up his Son’s life in exchange for ours, and Christ traded his righteousness for our sins so that we could stand justified, purified and accepted before God. “He who knew no sin became sin so that we could become right with God (2 Cor 5:21). As I focus on who he is and what he’s done, my mind is overwhelmed by the extent of his love, and my heart begins to melt and soften as he draws me back into his presence.
“Apart from him I can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). It’s easy to lose a sense of closeness by avoiding him, so that before long we’re filling his place with anything and everything else. He says in John 15 that the only way we’ll ever thrive is by staying in a vital, communing relationship with him. After many years as a Christian, it’s easy to forget what life was like apart from him. As I look back at chapters from the past I feel gratitude for all he’s done – lifting me out of the pit and putting a new song in my heart (Ps 40:2), establishing hope in place of despair and leading me down paths that have brought purpose to a once self-absorbed, destructive life. Not only that, but he daily sustains me by his unconditional, relentless love, grace and mercy. Apart from his salvation and the Spirit’s work, I know that I can do nothing of any spiritual significance. To venture into even one day without his transforming power means to choose a dry, tasteless life. It’s a really terrible alternative to the joy and fruitfulness I can experience by abiding in him (Jn 15:8, Gal 5:22-23).
“With God all things are possible” (Mat 19:26). While I can’t do anything of any eternal significance apart from God’s grace and power, he promises that the possibilities are limitless if I’ll remain in his love (Jn 15:5). When I’m going through a desert like the one I’m in right now, I often lose the vision to be a light to others so that they can come to know the One who rescued me. Life apart from God morphs into a selfish existence, one that’s all about me and how I can sustain my fleshly comfort. But life in the Spirit propels me to a transformed way of living and loving so that I desire to take part in God’s greater purpose. He desires to pour out blessings on all his children, to daily enrich us with his Word and Spirit, not only for our own good but so that we'll move out of our protective comfort zone and into the sphere of influence he’s given us (no matter how small), freely sharing with others the message of his redeeming love.
God wants me to remember these truths each day so that unlike the Israelites I don’t give up, forget hope and lose my footing. They’re foundational to challenging me to keep pressing into God and praying even when I don’t feel it. He wants to bring refreshing through streams in the desert, so that I'll learn to live and walk by faith. When I come out on the other side, I’ll have improved strength and courage along with an ever growing confidence in his goodness and faithfulness.
As I sit down once again and attempt to talk with him about what’s going on in my heart it’s painful. Snapshots of previous days spent avoiding him crowd my thinking as I vividly picture all the sins I’ve piled up. But he’s there with even greater influence, reminding me of what Christ has finished on the cross. Because of his death and resurrection I can now stand unashamed in his presence – fully loved, fully accepted and counted blameless, not because of anything I’ve done but because of his righteousness, which was a gift of his astounding grace (Eph 2:8-9, Phil 3:9). He looks at me right now, and instead of seeing my sins, he sees the purity of his own Son. With the reminder of these truths, I’m able to push past condemning thoughts (Rm 8:1) and the pull of indifference and once again fix my eyes on him. My heart starts to warm, my spirit feels hopeful. The dullness gradually gives way to expectancy as I once again experience his refreshing presence.
"I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, the parched ground into springs" (Is 41:18)
