The Quiet Priority of Communion with God

It is possible to spend significant time around the things of God and yet remain, in a quiet way, distant from Him.

Scripture can be read. Prayers can be spoken. Responsibilities can be carried. And still, beneath it all, there can be a subtle sense that something is missing—not in activity, but in nearness.

This is not always the result of deliberate wandering. More often, it is the slow drift of a crowded life, where urgency replaces attentiveness and familiarity replaces affection.

And yet, at the center of the Christian life is not merely obedience or discipline, but communion.

“Truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.” — 1 John 1:3

We are not only saved from sin—we are brought to God. Into relationship. Into fellowship. Into a lived awareness of His presence.

Dane Ortlund often reminds us that Christ is not reluctant to receive His people, but glad to draw near to them. The barrier we feel is not found in His heart, but often in our distraction, our hurry, or our gradual settling for something less than closeness.

Jesus Himself speaks with striking simplicity:

“Abide in me, and I in you.” — John 15:4

This is not language of performance, but of remaining. Of staying. Of living in ongoing dependence rather than occasional return.

The Puritans spoke of communion with God as the highest privilege of the believer—that in Christ, we are welcomed not merely into service, but into fellowship. Thomas Goodwin described this as “the sweetest part of heaven begun on earth.”

And yet, it is often this very thing that is most easily neglected.

We fill our days with good things. We move quickly. We learn to function without deeply attending to God. And over time, the soul begins to feel the distance.

Not because God has withdrawn—but because we have ceased to linger.

A Shepherd’s Invitation

It is worth asking gently: when was the last time you were simply with God—not moving quickly, not completing a task, but attending to Him?

Begin again, without pressure or pretense. Open Scripture slowly. Read not for volume, but for presence. Pray honestly, even if your words feel scattered. Stay a little longer than feels efficient.

“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” — James 4:8

This is not a distant promise. It is an immediate invitation.

Communion is not something to master. It is something to return to—again and again.