The Relationship God
I usually start with Scripture when I sit down to spend intentional time seeking the Lord. Psalm 32. First John. Isaiah 41.
I love the Word of God. I love insight, wisdom, and learning. I love to think deeply. Ironically, that's surprising for someone who has often been easily distracted. My temperament assessments have consistently labeled me one-third melancholy, so perhaps it makes sense after all.
Reading Scripture gives my heart and mind a place to begin. Lately, it has been common for the Lord to have already gone before me, with a particular passage waiting for me. I love when that happens. It feels personal, kind, and intentional. It reminds me that He knows exactly what I need before I even begin.
Sometimes, though, I don't begin with Scripture.
Sometimes I begin with silence, or worship. And sometimes with a book I’m reading. I enjoy mentally exploring. Notice I said mentally exploring, not physically. You won’t find me hiking — unless I’m talked into hiking to the Hollywood sign. The one time I tried with a lovely group of friends I learned that the destination being “just around the next curve” is a lie. I’d much rather explore with my mind than with my feet.
But as much as we all develop routines with God, there are times when we need to set the books aside, delay our Bible study for a moment, and simply yada.
Yada is a Hebrew word describing deep, relational, experiential knowing. It is far more than learning facts. It is the same word used in Genesis 4:1 to describe the intimacy between a husband and wife.
This is what relationship with God actually is — not primarily information exchanged, but life shared. He isn’t only the God who teaches. He’s the Relationship God, the One who wants to be known and to know us in return.
As much as I love information and learning, I need Him more.
Yes, when life hurts.
Yes, when I’m worried.
Yes, when I’ve been wounded.
And yes, when I’ve fallen below my personal level of convictions.
But also when nothing seems wrong at all.
I’ve learned that sitting quietly in His presence is just as necessary as studying His Word. My spirit doesn’t always need another lesson. I also need Living Water (John 7:38).
And life is heavy. We carry responsibilities, relationships, disappointments, victories, grief, and ordinary days — and the weight of all of it quietly settles on us. On our minds, our emotions, our nervous systems, our spirits. That’s simply part of living in a fallen world.
I recently watched a documentary about people who briefly died and were revived. One man tried to describe what it was like being in a place where there was no sin — Heaven. He said he could literally feel sin’s absence there.
It struck me. Like oppressive humidity on a scorching day, sin hangs in the atmosphere of this fallen world. We hardly notice its weight until it’s lifted.
Imagine that.
Here, sin touches everything. Even on the most beautiful day, beneath the majesty of ancient trees in Yosemite, or while staring into the eyes of someone we deeply love, we still live in a broken world. There is evidence of it even in the most glorious moments of our life.
But in Heaven… it is gone. Completely gone.
When I sit quietly before Him — not trying to solve problems, not trying to learn something new, but simply worshiping Him, yada, allowing Him to speak to me, or just experiencing all that He is — He fills the places in my soul that nothing else can reach or satisfy.
He renews what life can wear down. And in His presence, shame loses its voice. Doubts and preoccupations grow quieter. Weights become lighter. Not because I’ve learned something new, but because I’ve spent time focusing on Him — the One who reminds me, just by sitting receptively and undistracted in His presence, who I really am.
We were made for Him. Everything else is secondary.
One Next Step
If this stirred something in you — a longing for more than information, for the kind of knowing that only comes from sitting with Him — I’d love to walk with you there. I offer 1:1 coaching in spiritual intimacy and disciplines, helping you build a rhythm of seeking God that fits your life and your season. Learn more about coaching →