There are nights when I press my forehead into the pillow, whisper a prayer, and feel like it bounces back unheard.
Sometimes I open my Bible and the words blur together, a language I’m still learning to understand.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this all wrong — or if the connection I once felt was just my imagination.
I’m in this strange place where I’ve known God was there my whole life, but now that I’ve intentionally said “yes” to following Him, He sometimes feels just beyond my fingertips.
But the hardest truth to admit?
It’s not that He feels distant.
It’s that I know I’m the one who’s drifted.
I’m the one lingering. Avoiding. Distracting. Filling the ache with noise — scrolling, podcasts about faith instead of talking to God directly — anything but the vulnerability of stillness.
And still, in honest moments, I whisper, “God, I love You… I just feel far.”
When You’re Sitting in the Silence
The numbness hits hardest when I’m alone with my thoughts. When I wish I had someone who would understand this spiritual growing pain. When I see others worship with such ease and wonder if they notice I’m still figuring out how this all works.
I smile. I show up to church. I highlight verses. But under the surface, I feel… disconnected. Like I’m supposed to be experiencing something more, but I don’t even know what that “more” is supposed to feel like.
And here’s what I’m learning, even just a year into this journey: faith doesn’t magically fix everything. It’s not a switch that turns off your confusion, your doubts, or your tendency to pull away.
When It’s Not God Who Moved
I know deep down God hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s the same God who met me when I finally acknowledged what I think I’d always known — that He was real and waiting for me. The same God who felt so close in those first weeks after I said yes to Him. The same God who has always been there, even before I had words for who He was.
So if I’m feeling far now… it’s not because He left. It’s because I stopped coming close.
Not out of rebellion — but out of uncertainty. Distraction. The fear that comes with not knowing if I’m “doing faith right.”
I don’t need another worship song that everyone else seems to know the words to. I need to study His Word like I’m trying to know someone I love — because I am.
Because I need truth more than I need a feeling.
Because this relationship isn’t about Sunday emotions — it’s about daily showing up, even when it feels awkward and new.
What I Want to Say to God (But Was Afraid To)
Lord,
I’m sorry for drifting — not because You demand perfection, but because I miss the closeness I felt when I first said yes to You.
I’m grateful You’ve always been there — even before I recognized Your voice, for being patient while I figure out what it means to follow You.
I want to come closer. I want this faith to feel as natural as breathing. I want to burn with the passion I see in others.
But right now… I’m still learning how to be authentic with You.
I want to know: Who am I in this new identity as Yours? Why do I still feel like I’m just going through motions — even in prayer? What does it look like to truly know You when I’ve only been intentionally seeking You for such a short time?
Because I’m tired of trying to “feel spiritual” for You. I just want to be near You. Even if I’m confused. Even if I’m new at this. Even if I’m still figuring it all out.
A Whisper for the Woman Who Feels This Too
If you’ve ever sat in your car after church, wondering why God doesn’t feel as clear to you as He seems to for others — I see you.
If you’ve nodded along to testimonies, joined the small groups, tried the prayer journals — but secretly felt like you’re missing something — I see you.
If you’re still showing up… but quietly wondering if your faith is “real enough,” It is. You’re held.
And here’s what I’m discovering: <div style=”text-align:center; font-style:italic; font-size:1.2em; margin: 1.5em 0;”> The desire to be closer is already worship. </div>
The honest admission, “God, I wish I felt You more” is already a prayer. And the distance? It’s not a sign that you’re failing — it’s part of the journey of knowing Him.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” — Jeremiah 29:13
He’s not disappointed in your questions. He’s not tapping His foot, waiting for you to figure it all out. He’s right where He’s always been.
So this is where I’m starting — with honesty more than answers.
A Prayer from Right Where I Am
Lord,
I feel far. But I believe You are near.
I’m unsure. But I know You are certain.
I’m new at this. But You are patient with beginners.
I don’t want to pretend I have this all figured out — I want real connection. Teach me how to be with You without pressure. To study, not just scroll past verses on Instagram. To seek You for who You are, not for how You make me feel. To love You from this place of learning — and trust that even my awkward prayers are treasured in heaven.
Thank You for loving me while I’m still figuring this out. Thank You for being there my whole life, even when I didn’t know how to look for You. And thank You for calling me daughter — even when I’m still learning what that means.
Amen.
This is what it means to follow Jesus when you’re still new at it. When you’ve sensed Him all your life but are just beginning to understand what that means. When honesty matters more than having the right words. When spiritual growth happens in fits and starts, not in perfect progression.
You’re not alone. You’re not failing. You’re becoming — even here.
From a heart that’s still learning — and still held.
