After the birth of each of my children, my husband and I experienced a time of disconnect. There were a thousand reasons why, beginning with ten sweet fingers and ten delicious toes.
Don’t get me wrong, it was a season of joy. I felt more love for my Prince than ever before. And we had these two miracles…
But we were tired—communication the last item on our list.
We’ve always managed to reconnect. But the in between spaces, those silent days? They were painful.
Do you know what’s worse?
The stretches of space and time when I feel disconnected from my Creator. My Jesus.
If there’s one thing I want my blog to be, it is a safe place for transparency. Yours.
I never want to act like I have it all together. Because I don’t. I want you to know the real me. Because I believe real healing only comes when we share our real selves.
And so truth? Lately, I’ve felt secluded from God.
The space between us feels so far apart it’s tangible. Like I can reach out and begin pulling in the rope that tethers my soul to His.
God just seems quiet.
Have you ever felt that way? And then scared to tell anyone? I mean, gasp, what would people think?
Friends, we are not alone.
King David cries out in Psalm 13, “Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”
I’m so grateful for the humanity of Bible heroes. They are reminders that my tattered and worn faith journey is a part of the collective biblical norm.
No, we are not alone.
Our spiritual disconnect can happen for so many—so many—reasons. Reasons like sin. Or that the loudness of our busy life muffles the Father’s voice. Or the building of our faith. Or some reasons I can’t pretend to know.
Whatever the reason, the quiet can be painful. Doubts can surge. Guilt because shouldn’t I always feel close to God? Confusion when you think you’re doing all the right things to reconnect.
The silent spaces leave me floundering. I know there is a reason for the silence, but I hate it. I’m frustrated by it. I’m trapped by it. The quiet deafens.
Yet, even in the disconnect, one Truth brings hope.
I know He’s there.
As I enter this Holiest season, this Advent, every flickering candle, glowing Christmas tree, and humble nativity points to the one we call Immanuel. God with us.
He is with me. Even when the silence thickens.
God doesn’t walk away. He is a God who pursues. Who listens. Who comforts. He promises to never leave us or forsake us.
He is there—even in disconnected spaces.
This is where I find myself as I edge into December. Having to trust in what I know to be true. Having to believe when I don’t feel like it. Having to lean into the promises my Jesus has given me.
Because I want to press into Immanuel.
God with us.
God with you.
God with me.
So I will press in, press in, press in. Despite the quiet.
Because He’s there.
And tonight? That will be enough.