When God Feels Far Away

There are days in grief when God feels painfully distant. You know the verses, you’ve heard the promises, and you’ve prayed the prayers, but there is still this quiet ache inside you asking, “God, where are You?” I remember reading Scripture in those early weeks after losing my daughter and feeling like the words were flat, like they weren’t sinking into me at all. I would try to pray, and all I could manage were small fragments of sentences. And sometimes not even that. Sometimes it was only tears and thoughts I couldn’t speak.

It can be so hard to admit when God feels far away. I think there’s a subtle shame attached to it, as if feeling distant means you’ve lost your faith or failed to trust Him. But it doesn’t mean that at all. It means you’re human. It means you’ve been wounded. It means you’ve loved someone so deeply that their absence has shaken the foundations of your world. Grief makes everything feel unfamiliar, even God.

I remember sitting in church the December after losing Paige, surrounded by people worshiping with bright voices, and I just couldn’t sing. I felt like I was listening from behind a thick glass wall. The words didn’t match anything happening inside me. I wanted to feel what they felt and to join in with confidence, but my heart felt numb and tired. I wondered if God saw me there, quietly unraveling while everyone else around me seemed to be in awe of Him and so in love with Him. I wondered why He felt so silent and far away when I needed Him the most.

If you have ever felt that way, you’re not alone. And you’re not doing anything wrong. Scripture is full of people who loved God deeply and still asked, “Where are You?” David cried out, “How long, O LORD? Will You forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1). The psalmist in Psalm 42 wrote, “My tears have been my food day and night” (Psalm 42:3). Those aren’t the words of faithless people. They’re the words of aching, honest hearts.

And here’s what I’ve learned: feeling far from God is not the same as being far from God. Your feelings are real, but they are not the measure of His nearness. Psalm 34:18 reminds us, “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Near. Not after you heal. Not after you find the right words. Near to the brokenhearted. Near to you. Right now. Always. In every season. 

When I think about Advent, I think about that ache. The longing for God to show up, for Him to step into the silence, and for Him to speak into the places that feel abandoned. Israel waited through centuries of quiet, wondering if God still saw them, still remembered them, and still planned to rescue them. Their longing did not push God away. It prepared them to see Him when He came.

And then, into all that silence, God arrived. Not loudly, not with fanfare, but quietly. A baby in a manger. Heaven breaking into earth in the most unexpected place. God became present in a way they could see and touch and hold. Emmanuel, God with us.

If God feels far from you this Christmas season, please know this: feeling is not the same as fact. You can feel alone and still be held. You can feel abandoned and still be seen. You can feel distant and still be surrounded by the presence of a God who is closer than your breath. Your grief does not scare Him, your questions do not threaten Him, and your silence does not push Him away. He is with you in all of it.

When Scripture feels dry or worship feels flat, that doesn’t mean God has stepped back. Sometimes it simply means your heart has been carrying too much for too long. Come to Him in the small ways you can. Open your Bible, even if all you can manage is a verse. Let worship play softly in the background, even when your heart can’t sing along yet. These things don’t earn God’s nearness, but they do make space for you to remember it when the fog begins to lift.

One day, the words will soften again. One day, worship won’t feel so heavy. One day, you’ll sense His presence in a way your heart recognizes. But until that day, please hear this: God is no less near to you in the numbness than He is in the moments when you feel Him clearly.

Advent reminds us that God comes near to people who are longing, aching, waiting, and wondering. He came once into a weary world, and He will come again. Until then, He has not stepped away. He is near to you, who are brokenhearted, even when your heart feels too broken to notice.

Because He lives, I hope,
Jennie

Jennie is the Executive Director for Hope Mommies. She and her husband Brian live in Oregon and have four children together— Trenton, Paige who has been in Heaven with Jesus since 2010, Mason, and Cora. If you were to knock on her front door today, you’d find her in something comfortable drinking a hot cup of tea, while trying to figure out how to balance all the things that make up a life. She enjoys spending time in God’s word, fresh flowers, board games with her kids, cooking, and evening walks in her neighborhood. She adores being a new creation in Christ and prays she reflects Him well on this earth.