Do You Need to Reconnect with God?
“So how have you been?”
This is usually the first question Heather asks as we begin what will, most likely, be a ninety-minute phone conversation. Most of our nine-year friendship has been built during phone conversations.
We started out living in the same state, just forty-five minutes away from each other. We got together often, sometimes even once a week. Nine months later, her family moved from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma. Our face-to-face, heart-to-heart conversations over tea or homemade chicken pot pie (the kind with noodles) were limited to my visits; I think I managed three while they lived there.
In the times between visits, we made good use of phone cards and the cheaper-after-nine-p.m. long distance rates. Because our time was limited, we didn’t waste it with small talk. We’d jump in right where we last left off, filling each other in on what had happened since the last conversation. We processed all our experiences and thoughts and feelings. We talked about what God was teaching us, both the hard things and the easy things.
After two years, which felt more like forever, Heather and her family moved back to Pennsylvania. We were able to spend more time together, but we also continued our phone calls. Nine months after their return, I moved to Georgia, making those phone conversations the lifeblood of our friendship once again.
Over the last five years, the frequency of those calls has lessened because of life and all its responsibilities. But no matter how much time has passed, we always start the same way: filling each other in on what’s been happening and what we’ve been learning. It’s never awkward because of the history we have, a history of seeking to know each other’s hearts more fully.
Lately I’ve been reflecting on my relationship with God. For two years, our friendship has been very quiet. As I’ve been wrestling with my feelings about the church in America and how it interacts with the world, I’ve kept God at arm’s length, not really wanting to spend time with him. I know there are many reasons for this choice, and I’m still processing through them. Right now, though, I’m becoming aware of how much I want to let God back into my life.
So often I think the act of re-establishing my friendship with God has to be some grand ceremony. Something has me convinced I’ve got to have everything “just so” before we can start again. It’s like thinking the only way to spend time with Heather would be to throw a big dinner party. But that idea is so far from the truth.
Just like with Heather, getting back into conversation with God can be as simple as a phone call. When it’s been a long time since our last conversation, I’ll send Heather a text and we’ll schedule time for a chat. I can do the same thing with God.
When he and I sit down together, the conversation doesn’t have to be some flowery, apologetic explanation about why it’s been so long since we last talked. Because I imagine that, much like Heather, God’s first question will be, “So how have you been?” We’ll start with the details of life and let them lead us deeper into processing all the experiences and thoughts and feelings. One conversation will lead to more, and eventually it will become a regular thing.
I’m almost certain I’m not the only one in the midst of trying to keep God at bay. I don’t know what your reasons are, but I know, like me, you’ll eventually want him back. When you do, don’t get fixated on how it’s “supposed” to happen; the prodigal son headed home out of a need to survive and was met with great love (Luke 15:17–20). Just send that text and schedule some time. Let God ask you how you’re doing, and then be fully real with him. It really is as simple as that.
is a daughter, sister, friend, writer, and singer. She loves Jesus, music, books, and great TV shows. Because she’s far from perfect, she is grateful for God’s grace in her life. She writes with the hope that others might be encouraged to let God make them new as well. You can read more of her work at beautyrestored.me.
Photograph © Priscilla du Preez, used with permission
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