When You Know He’s There, But Can’t Feel Him
“I know God is here. But I just… don’t feel Him.”
A Note From The Wilderness - Short Form Posts, Originally posted on my Instagram Stories.
Man, I can’t tell you how many of the students I work with have said something like this to me:
“I know God is here. But I just… don’t feel Him.”
And honestly?
Same. Been there.
Done that. It’s rough.
sometimes the silence is just so loud.
And I’m left thinking:
“Lord, I know You’re here… but I wish I could feel You.”
Here’s the reality:
We’ve been trained (subtly and wrongly) to think God’s presence is like a WiFi signal.
Strong when we’re crushing our quiet time.
Weak when we’re tired, grumpy, or scrolling Instagram too long.
It’s like we’re walking around holding up a little spiritual antenna, praying for a few holy bars of WiFi.
To quote Old Man Han Solo:
“That’s not how the Force works!”
That’s not the Gospel.
Been slowly working through Colossians for my devotions, meditating on just a few verses per day.
Colossians 1:27 comes in like a wrecking ball to all that nonsense:
“To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” —Colossians 1:27
“Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
Not near you.
Not above you.
Not available if you emotionally qualify.
In. You.
This is not a God who texts you from heaven and hopes you reply.
This is a God who moves in, throws His bags down, and says,
“I’m staying.”
You’re not weak for wanting to feel Him.
You’re human.
God made you with nerve endings and a nervous system and a soul that longs to experience love, not just theorize about it.
But feelings aren’t the foundation.
If they were, you’d be doubting your salvation every time you forgot to cry during worship.
Christ in you isn’t a vibe.
It’s a fact.
A reality deeper than whatever fog you’re stuck in today.
The enemy would love nothing more than for you to equate emotional dullness with divine absence.
“Oh, you don’t feel God? He must’ve ghosted you.”
Trash theology.
Demonic whisper.
You want to know what’s actually happening?
Sometimes that silence is His nearness pressing in so deeply it bypasses your senses and sinks into your bones.
He’s not playing hide and seek.
He’s indwelling you.
I’ve learned in my own life…
He doesn’t want me to survive off the milk of feelings…
Feelings are beautiful.
God given.
But eventually he wants us to grow up to the point where we recognize He is with us and IN US in the moments we feel it AND the moments we don’t.
Let’s just roast this for a second:
If God’s love was based on how spiritual you feel, the Cross was for nothing.
Jesus didn’t die so you could get goosebumps during the bridge of a worship song.
He died and rose again to live inside you.
So yeah… there might be days you feel like a dried-out sponge.
But that sponge is still soaked in the Holy Spirit, whether it knows it or not.
I say all this not as some guy who’s figured it out…
But as someone who’s sat on the floor of his office more than once, head in his hands, whispering:
“God, where are You?”
And in those moments, I’ve remembered:
He’s not across the room.
He’s not waiting for me to level up spiritually.
He’s in me.
And He’s not leaving.
So if that ache is there…
if you’re in the in-between, not doubting Him, just wishing you could feel Him…
you’re not broken.
You’re actually paying attention.
Longing for God isn’t failure.
It’s faith whispering,
“Please don’t be far.”
And the Gospel says
He’s not.
Not now. Not ever.
He is closer than your next breath.
Even when the feelings are gone, the silence is thick, and your spiritual life feels like driving with the headlights off…
He’s still there.
Still loving.
Still staying.
You are not alone.
You are inhabited.
Let that quiet the panic.
Let it push back the lie.
You don’t need to feel Him to be filled with Him.