When Jesus Feels Far
Have you ever been following a loved one in traffic? You’re keeping a safe distance, focused on their tail lights, navigating the turns together. They’re in the car right in front of you, your target, your guide. Then, you approach an intersection. The light turns yellow. They punch it and sail through, but you’re just a second too late. The light flashes red, and you have to hit the brakes.
You sit there, helpless. Cars from the cross-street start pouring into the gap between you, a river of steel and glass separating you from the one you were following. One car, then five, then ten. Your connection is broken. The spiritual leadership car you were following starts to get smaller and smaller, disappearing into a sea of brake lights and meaningless motion. Panic starts to rise in your chest. You’ve lost them.
This is exactly what a spiritual disconnect feels like. One moment, you’re on the pathway of life, following the way of Jesus Christ. The next, there’s a massive spiritual wall between you, or a red light you just couldn't make. Your prayers, which once soared, now seem to just bounce off the ceiling. You start doing a spiritual inventory, pondering your sins, wondering, "Am I really a vessel meet for the Master's use? Can God even use me anymore?"
It’s a terrifying place to be. You feel that if you don't reconnect that spiritual umbilical cord to heaven, and soon, you’re going to die like a fish out of water. You keep doing the "right things"—the good works, the service—but it feels like you're just jogging in place, burning spiritual calories for no fruit. Time keeps marching on, but you feel spiritually stagnant, stale, and Jesus seems to be getting further and further away. If you know what I’m talking about, I want you to know you’re not alone. And more importantly, I want you to know that this experience, as awful as it is, doesn't take Jesus by surprise.
The Anatomy of a Disconnect
The Spiritual Wall and the Rising Pressure
When that spiritual wall goes up, it has physical consequences. I know for me, my blood pressure starts to go up. It’s a carnal reaction to a spiritual problem, but it’s real. I start getting angry. I’ll find myself yelling at inanimate objects or getting furious about things I have absolutely no control over. My head feels like it’s going to pop.
Sometimes, it gets so intense it’s almost like having one of those out-of-body experiences I describe in my book, OPEN YOUR EYES MY SUPERNATURAL JOURNEY. You feel your spirit rise up, and you’re just watching yourself mess up down below. You see this madman losing his temper and you think, "Who is that guy down there? That looks like me, but man, that is not me." It's a profound and frightening sense of being divided against yourself.
This is the chaos that ensues when the connection is severed. We were designed to live in constant communion with our Creator, and when that communion is disrupted, every part of us—body, soul, and spirit—screams in protest.
Sawing Off Your Own Branch
Jesus tells us in John 15, "I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing." (John 15:5 KJV). During a disconnect, it feels like we’re the guy sitting on that very branch, holding a saw, and actively cutting ourselves off from the tree trunk.
It's a double-minded thing. Part of you wants to abide, to stay connected, but another part of you is just sawing away, causing this disconnect that is completely counterintuitive. And then you fall, helplessly, to the earth. The fall itself isn’t the main problem; it’s the disconnect from the vine that’s catastrophic. That vine is our spiritual tree trunk, the source of our breath, our hope, our inspiration, which causes our perspiration for this generation.
When that connection is cut, the spiritual sap dries up. The lifeblood of our faith, which should circulate like blood from the heart, just stops. Our relationship with Jesus goes from hot to lukewarm. The very source of our spiritual sustenance runs dry.
When the Well Runs Dry
In that state of spiritual dehydration, we instinctively resort to the futility of our own minds. We think, "Okay, let’s go back to the basics." We start searching the scriptures diligently, but with a carnal mind. We’re spiritually disconnected, trying to use an intellectual tool to solve a spiritual problem. We want to yell at Moses, "Hey, you got to make water come out of this rock, dude, or I'm going to die!"
Then we remember this is a personal relationship. We have to deal with this ourselves. We rehearse the promises: "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." (Hebrews 13:5 KJV). But the words feel hollow. Our situation feels completely contrary to what the Word of God says. All the while we're quoting these scriptures, that spiritual car of Jesus is disappearing further into the distance.
This is the spiritual thirst the psalmist knew so well. "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." (Psalm 42:1 KJV). This isn't the thirst of someone who has never tasted water; it's the desperate thirst of someone who knows what the life-giving presence of God feels like and is now agonizingly cut off from it. This is the hunger and thirst for righteousness that Jesus promised would be filled. The ache itself is a sign that we were once full and are meant to be full again.
Peter's Story: The Ultimate Case Study in Disconnect and Restoration
If anyone understood this roller coaster of connection and disconnect, it was the apostle Peter. His life gives us the perfect roadmap for navigating these treacherous waters.
Walking on Water, Sinking in the Storm
Think about Peter walking on the water. It was a perfect picture of what it means to follow Jesus supernaturally. As long as his focus was on Jesus, he was doing the impossible. His body, soul, mind, and spirit were all headed in one direction: towards Jesus.
Then something came in. He allowed himself to be distracted. A storm. The wind, the waves—the storm of life that we all face. He didn't maintain his focus, and the moment he took his eyes off Jesus, he began to sink. But here’s the crucial part. As the cold water was closing over his head, Peter didn’t try to rationalize his way out. He didn’t start quoting his favorite scriptures about flotation. He didn't try to swim.
In that moment of terror, his core value system kicked in. He knew, in the depth of his soul, that Jesus was the only solution. He cried out, "Lord, save me!" And the Lord saved him.
Why did he do that? It wasn't because of his top-notch theology. The Bible tells us the religious leaders perceived Peter and John as "unlearned and ignorant men," but they marveled because "they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus." (Acts 4:13 KJV). It wasn't Peter’s book learning that saved him; it was his being with Jesus. That relationship was his core. He had forsaken everything—his boats, his career, even two boatloads of fish—to follow Jesus. His life was all-in.
Sifted Like Wheat
But even with that level of intimacy, Peter experienced the ultimate disconnect. Jesus told him it was coming. "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." (Luke 22:31-32 KJV).
Peter, full of confidence, insisted, "Lord, I am ready to go with thee, both into prison, and to death." (Luke 22:33 KJV). He was ready for the big, dramatic battle. But then came the unexpected variable: a little girl. She wasn't a soldier or a demon; she was just a servant girl who identified him. And she freaked him out. It reminds me of the prophet Elijah, who, after defeating 450 prophets of Baal, ran for his life from one woman, Jezebel. The unexpected variable can undo us.
Faced with that little girl, Peter began to sink. He started sawing that tree limb off the tree trunk. He denied Jesus. Not once, not twice, but three times. He fell away into a fit of despair and depression.
Restoration and a Greater Calling
Where did Peter go after this catastrophic failure? He went fishing. He went back to what his carnal mind knew how to do. He probably thought Jesus would never fellowship with him again. He was in that dark, disconnected place, stuck at the red light while Jesus was long gone.
But Jesus saw all of it. It didn't take Him by surprise. And just like He allowed Joseph to be thrown into a pit, sold as a slave, and forgotten in prison, He allowed Peter to go through this sifting. Why? So that one day, he could strengthen his brethren. Joseph later told his brothers, "But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive." (Genesis 50:20 KJV).
Jesus met Peter on that beach, in the middle of his failure and his return to his old life, and He restored him. And after this deep humiliation, after this profound spiritual disconnect, Peter became the man who preached with fire at Pentecost. He became the man whose very shadow would heal people. The sifting didn't destroy him; it refined him. The disconnect led to a deeper, more humble, and more powerful connection than he ever had before.
Key Takeaways
- Spiritual disconnect is a real and painful experience that can feel like hitting a wall or losing Jesus in traffic.
- Our initial carnal reactions—like anger, frustration, or just "trying harder" in our own strength—often make the situation worse.
- The primary cause of a disconnect is a loss of focus. We take our eyes off Jesus and fix them on the "storm" of our circumstances, our fears, or our failures.
- Jesus is never surprised by our disconnects. He often allows these periods of sifting to strip away our self-reliance and deepen our dependence on Him.
- The path to reconnection is not through more intellectual knowledge or religious works, but through a return to our "first love"—the simple, intimate, and all-consuming relationship of just being with Jesus.
Conclusion: Your Next Move When You're Stuck at the Red Light
So, what do you do when you find yourself stuck at that spiritual red light, watching Jesus disappear into the traffic ahead? First, know that He hasn't abandoned you. He knows exactly where you are, and He has a plan. These periods can last a while, but they are not forever.
The key is to turn up the "seeking Him" mode. Let your core value system cry out, "I love Jesus, even when I'm not hearing from Him. I trust Jesus, even when I can't feel Him." Keep seeking Him, not because it earns you points, but because He is your very life. It’s all about that spiritual relationship with the biblical Jesus. Nothing else will do.
If this has touched you, please share this with your friends and family on social media. You never know who else is sitting at a spiritual red light, feeling alone and desperate for a reconnection. Until we meet again, dig deeper and go higher.
Action Items
- Be Brutally Honest With God. Stop pretending you're fine. Follow the example of the psalmists and cry out to God. Tell Him you feel disconnected, you're angry, you're afraid. Pour out your heart to Him. Honesty is the first step toward intimacy.
- Re-engage Your "First Love." Don't just go through the motions. Put on worship music and just soak in His presence without an agenda. Remember the romance of your first love relationship with Jesus. Remind your heart why you forsook all to follow Him in the first place.
- Get Washed by the Word. If reading the Bible feels like a chore, try a different approach. Put on an audio Bible and just let the words wash over you while you drive, work, or rest. Don't try to analyze it; just let the Spirit use the water of the Word to cleanse you.
- Identify and Forsake the Distraction. What was the "storm" or the "little girl" that caused you to take your eyes off Jesus? Name it. A fear, a sin, a worldly care, a person's opinion? Consciously repent for giving it your focus and, by faith, turn your eyes back to Jesus.
- Ever felt a spiritual disconnect from Jesus? 💔 Re-ignite your first love and learn to reconnect with the Vine, even when you feel stuck in spiritual traffic.


