Lately, I’ve been realizing something about my relationship with God.
Life gets loud.
Responsibilities pile up. Schedules fill up. Even good things, even ministry things, can slowly begin crowding out simple communion with Jesus if we’re not careful.
Over the last several months, I started recognizing something in my own heart. Somewhere in the middle of all the creating, writing, recording, editing, planning, serving, speaking, and pouring out, I stopped slowing down long enough to simply sit with God.
Not because I stopped loving Him.
Not because I stopped believing.
And not because I’m walking away from ministry.
Actually, it’s the opposite.
As many of you know, I’m preparing to step into a sabbatical season this summer. During that time, the podcast and blog will continue through reposted content and “best of” episodes, but I won’t be creating new material for a season.
And I want you to hear my heart clearly:
this is not spiritual collapse.
This is a spiritual reset.
It’s an intentional slowing down to reconnect with my first love.
Because I realized something:
I don’t want to spend all my time producing things about God while neglecting simply being with Him.
And honestly, I think many of us have been there before.
We keep showing up.
We keep doing all the things.
We keep serving, helping, leading, producing, surviving…
…but somewhere along the way, intimacy quietly slips into the background.
Psalm 27:8 has been sitting heavily on my heart lately:
“My heart has heard You say, ‘Come and talk with Me.’ And my heart responds, ‘Lord, I am coming.’”
I love that verse because it reminds me that God is the One who initiates relationship.
The Creator of the universe desires for us to come close to Him. He wants to commune with us, walk with us, speak with us, and simply be with us.
Sometimes I think we reduce prayer to asking God for things or bringing Him our needs, and of course He welcomes those things. But prayer is also relationship.
Sometimes prayer is simply responding:
“Lord… I’m here.”
That’s what this sabbatical season is becoming for me—a response to God’s invitation to come closer again.
And when I think about this kind of quiet formation, I immediately think about David.
Before David was a king, he was a shepherd.
Before he stood before crowds, he stood alone in fields.
Before he carried influence, he carried responsibility over sheep.
And long before David ever wore a crown, Scripture tells us that God had already sought out “a man after His own heart.”
David was called a man after God’s own heart before he ever stepped into public leadership.
His hidden years mattered.
The fields formed him.
Those quiet places of solitude, worship, waiting, and dependence shaped something deep inside of him. Many of the Psalms were likely birthed out of those hidden moments with the Lord.
David didn’t just know facts about God.
He knew His presence.
He learned trust before responsibility.
He learned worship before influence.
He learned intimacy before assignment.
And honestly, I think sometimes we want God’s assignment without His formation.
But throughout Scripture, we see that God often forms people deeply in quiet places long before He uses them publicly.
Moses spent years in the wilderness.
Joseph endured years of waiting and hardship.
Even Jesus regularly withdrew to lonely places to pray.
The wilderness was never wasted.
And maybe that’s something we need to hear again today:
waiting seasons are not wasted seasons.
Sometimes God does His deepest work in the quiet.
Lately, I’ve also been learning more about contemplative prayer. I know that phrase can sound intimidating, but honestly, it’s much simpler than it sounds.
Contemplative prayer is simply slowing down long enough to be with God.
Not striving.
Not performing.
Not rushing through a checklist.
Just being with Him.
Listening.
Resting.
Lingering in His presence.
Sitting with Scripture.
Allowing Him to search our hearts.
It’s not about emptying ourselves into nothingness or chasing mystical experiences. It’s not disconnecting from Scripture. It’s actually the opposite.
It’s slowing down enough to truly sit with Jesus and allow His presence and His Word to shape us deeply.
And honestly, I think that’s part of what this sabbatical season is for me.
Not escape.
Formation.
Over the last several months, I’ve felt the Lord gently revealing places in my heart that need healing, realignment, rest, and renewal.
Some of that has looked like journaling honestly with God.
Some of it has looked like sitting quietly with Scripture.
Some of it has looked like praying:
“Search me, O God, and know my heart.”
Or:
“Create in me a clean heart, O God.”
I think I’ve realized that intimacy with God cannot survive indefinitely on leftovers.
And I don’t want to just teach about abiding.
I want to actually abide.
I want to sit with Jesus again.
I want to slow down enough to hear Him clearly.
I want to reconnect with the nearness of God in a deeper way—not as a one-time emotional moment, but as an ongoing relationship with my Abba.
Because this isn’t just about preparing for a sabbatical.
This is about preparing my heart for a lifetime of deeper communion with Him.
And the beautiful thing is…
this invitation isn’t only for me.
It’s available to every person willing to respond when God says:
“Come and talk with Me.”
Maybe life has been loud for you too.
Maybe you’ve been exhausted, distracted, or spiritually dry.
Maybe you’ve forgotten what stillness even feels like.
But God is still inviting you closer.
Not into performance.
Not into pressure.
Not into perfection.
Into relationship.
Luke tells us that Mary “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
I love that image.
Because even in the middle of uncertainty, responsibility, travel, fear, and overwhelming circumstances, Mary still made space to ponder what God was doing.
She slowed down enough to notice Him.
And I think that’s what I want too.
Not just more information about God.
Not just more ministry output.
Not just more productivity.
I want deeper awareness of His presence.
Maybe this week you simply sit quietly with Him for a few minutes.
Maybe you slowly read a Psalm.
Maybe you take a walk without noise.
Maybe you journal honestly.
Maybe you pray:
“Search me, O God…”
Not because you’re trying to earn His love,
but because you already have it.
Transformation doesn’t happen through striving harder.
It happens through abiding longer.
And maybe today, God is simply saying to you:
“Come and talk with Me.”
Maybe your response can simply be:
“Lord… I’m coming.”
Today’s Step
Set aside a few quiet minutes this week to simply be with God. No agenda. No performance. Just presence.
Read Psalm 27 slowly and honestly pray:
“Lord… I’m coming.”
Listen to the full podcast episode at ichoosetoday.org/listen
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