How to Reconnect with God When Your Faith Feels Dry

I used to think that if I just read my Bible every day, journaled, and prayed “enough,” I’d feel close to God.

Like He’d reward my discipline with connection.

But what happens when you do all the “right” things… and it still feels silent?

And when I say “used to think,” I don’t mean years ago. I mean, like, two weeks ago.

I was in this place where my heart and mind were craving more, but I was stuck in a rut. I’d skim through my morning Scripture, open up my ChatGPT Bible study (honestly if you’re not using AI to help break down the Bible with real-life application, you are missing OUT, I’ll write a “how-to” post soon 👀)…

…but as soon as I closed the tab, I opened Instagram.

And just like that, poof. Whatever God whispered through His Word was drowned out by a scroll I barely remember.

Nothing was changing, except the depth of the rut.

Somewhere along the way, my quiet time became a to-do list. A spiritual checkbox.

And when I didn’t feel God…I sat there wondering why.

I didn’t realize I had drifted from relationship to performance. I was so focused on checking off the box that I forgot, God’s word is the most peaceful and heartfelt roadmap.

The beautiful part is, He didn’t shout at me. He didn’t shame me for rushing through a Psalm. He just whispered something that wrecked me: “You’re still my daughter even when...”

I know this past week has been heavy for so many of us.

Losing someone who boldly, authentically, and publicly shared their faith, knowing it went against the grain, it shook something deep in me.

I’ve had some of the deepest conversations of my life in the last few days.

One with my mother-in-law keeps playing on a loop in my mind.

I want to share it with you. But it’s heavy. Dark. Honest.

So here’s your permission slip to skip the next section if your heart’s not in a place to go there.

Last warning. Deep water ahead.

My grandfather, a God fearing, wise, gentle man, once said to me:

“If one day, your faith isn’t allowed to be spoken aloud anymore... and they start executing anyone who does... could you kneel there, at gunpoint, and say, ‘I serve a mighty God. I’m ready to meet my Maker.’ Could you still have that confidence, even in fear?”

That question has always haunted me in a holy way.

But then my mother-in-law said something that hit even harder:

“I absolutely agree, except now that you’re a mom...

it’s not Satan holding the gun to you.

It’s Satan holding the gun to your kids.

And he’s asking, ‘Do you still have faith now?’”

I didn’t even respond.

I just let it sit there.

And what I realized is this:

I’m not there yet.

I’m on my way.

But I’ve got work to do. Not just for my faith, but for the kind of faith my kids can lean on if the world ever forces us to kneel. Faith that lets us hold hands and say, “It’s okay. We know Whose we are. And we know Who wins the war.”

And you know what happens after a conversation like that?

We panic. We feel behind.

Like we’ve got to flip all the spiritual switches and become Bible boot camp warriors overnight. But that’s not how it works.

Picture learning a new hobby.

You’re terrible at first, but something inside you knows, “I can do this.”

You stumble. You get frustrated. But you keep going. And slowly, you master one piece. Then another. And it starts to click.

That’s faith.

I realized the gospel isn’t a performance checklist, it’s my reminder that God is still moving toward me, even when I can’t get the words out.

It’s permission to sit in His presence with no agenda.

No perfect prayer. No “verse of the day” caption.

Just me.

Still loved. Still chosen. Still His.

These days, I’m not trying to impress anyone with “look at me, I read my Bible.”

I’m trying to impress Him, by showing up in one small, intentional way each day.

For me, that looks like:

• Taking time after I am done reading to sit in silence and ask questions about what I just read vs getting right on my phone. 

• Turning scripture into house rules and repeating them like affirmations with my kids daily.

• Making my prayer life more important. Not just praying when things are hard but praying throughout the day in just gratitude for what I’ve been blessed with.

• Being vulnerable with my husband. Sharing my feelings, my aspirations, asking him to pray with me and even do a weekly study together. 

• Pausing before reacting with my kids so that I honor God in my disciplinary actions.

• Catching my spiraling negative self-talk and replacing it with the truth of God’s word.

  
  

For you it might look like:

• Lighting a candle and learning to sit in silence. No phone. No distractions.

• Writing out what’s really on your heart. messy, angry, confused, raw. Nothing is too big or heavy for Him.

• Picking one verse and asking, “What does this show me about who You are?”

• Letting worship music play while you fold laundry and cry if you need to.

  
  

It’s messy. It’s holy.

But it’s real.

And by choosing to show up even when I feel behind, I’m showing my kids what it means to build faith, one imperfect moment at a time.

So friend, if your faith feels cracked… If the silence is deafening… If the Bible feels like a foreign language again…

You’re not failing.

You’re growing.

You’re still His.

Right now is your invitation:

To silence the noise. To decide what you want your relationship with God to actually look like. One step at a time.

And if you ever need someone in your corner,

my inbox is open.

Always.

Until next time, may your home be whole, your heart be light, and your faith be fierce.

With love,

Makaila