Crawling Back

Let me start by saying—I’m okay.

I’m in a good place right now. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been working to rebuild my relationship with God. I’m spending time in the Word again. I’m praying again. I’m intentionally creating space in my life for Him, and it’s starting to feel like home. But before I got here, I went through a stretch of time that was hard. Not because of one major thing, but because I slowly drifted into a place of spiritual complacency—and I didn’t even realize how far I’d gone until I was already there.

I wasn’t planning to write about it at first. But lately, I’ve felt the need to get it out. Not for sympathy. Not for attention. Just to be honest. And maybe, in being honest, someone else out there will realize they’re not alone.

This will probably be the first in a short series of posts. I don’t plan to share these with big announcements or links all over social media. But I need to write them—for me, and for whoever might need to read them.

After finishing my book and the Bible study I’d been writing with Landon, I sort of... stopped. Without even meaning to, I let those projects become my primary connection to God. They gave me purpose, structure, and a reason to open my Bible every day. When they were over, I didn’t create something to take their place. And without structure, I got lazy. Spiritually lazy. Emotionally tired. I stopped making time for prayer. I stopped being intentional. And before I knew it, I found myself in a place I’ve been before—a place I promised myself I wouldn’t return to.

I never walked away from my faith. But I definitely let distance grow between me and the God who’s never stopped loving me. And even as He waited with open arms, I stayed busy, distracted, and honestly a little ashamed.

The good news? God’s love is relentless. His grace reaches further than our failures. And no matter how many times we wander, He’s ready to lead us home.

So that’s where I am now—on the way home. And I’m starting to see that maybe even this part of the journey has a purpose. Maybe the moments of drifting make the return all the more powerful.

I’m learning to stop living in shame and start walking in grace. I’m learning to admit when I’m the one who moved, not God. And I’m learning, once again, to crawl back into His arms—even if I have to do it more than once.

If you’re in that place right now, or if you’ve ever been there, I hope this speaks to you.

Let’s keep walking. Even if we’re crawling.