It can be frustrating. Why does a God who wants us to live in communion with Him feel so distant sometimes? Why doesn’t He make himself more readily known to us? Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m the one who’s distant from Him.
My mom died suddenly last year. We had exchanged voice mail messages one morning, everything seemingly as fine as ever, then Dad called that afternoon to say he had found her collapsed, lifeless. It was heart failure, she was 64, and I never got to say goodbye or prepare myself for the loss. I didn’t blame God and her death didn’t shake my faith. But I’ve felt distant from God since that day. Not as distant as I was in college, when out of laziness I quit going to church. But distant all the same. Who moved? God or me? I can’t imagine it was Him.
When I returned to church at age 27 my new rector told me a faith journey is like climbing a mountain. There will be plateaus, he explained, but I would need to keep going and be patient. Hopefully soon I will begin ascending again. I will pray for that.