Good morning, my brothers!  You can believe the right things, lead well, and still feel distant from Jesus. Most men are not rebelling. We’re just drifting. This is your invitation back to closeness. Let’s go!

This week: 4-minute, 59-second read

Close Enough to Hear Him

This past Monday morning, I sat at the kitchen table with my Bible open, coffee warm, and the house quiet. A setup for a perfect morning with Jesus. On mornings like this, I typically feel close to Jesus and hear Him speak through the pages of scripture.

Tuesday was different, though. And not in a good way.

Not because my external setup was bad, but because I was tired and my mind was already racing. I had stayed up late to watch all of the Super Bowl postgame show, and when I woke up, I scrolled through ESPN, Fox News, and CNN before opening my Bible.

I read a chapter in John’s gospel that was filled with nuggets and should have stopped me. But I felt nothing, gleaned nothing. Because, if I am honest, that morning I was reading to check something off my to-do list, not to commune with Someone.

I closed my Bible and prayed. I had honored the habit. I had maintained the routine.

But I had not drawn near to know Him better. I had simply checked a box.

I believe this is true of most of us. Many Christian men are not rebelling, thumbing our noses at God. We are simply going through the motions, learning how to live without intimacy with our Savior.

The Subtle Drift That Weakens a Man

No man wakes up and decides he no longer wants to be close to Jesus. Drift is subtle and can look respectable, even productive. It begins with distraction, sometimes cloaked in responsibility and justified busyness.

Sometimes, it’s meaningless scrolling or misplaced priority. Oftentimes, it’s the pressures of life.

Family needs more, work demands more, leadership expands, opportunities open, and the weight of provision grows heavier. We tell ourselves we will return to deeper time with Him when things slow down. But seasons rarely slow down, and the soul slowly adjusts to distance.

One day, we realize we still believe in every right doctrine, show up at church, and, at times, even defend biblical truth. Yet something inside feels thinner than it used to feel.

Jesus said in John 15, “Abide in Me.” We forget that He didn’t say “achieve for Me” or “work for Me.” He said, “Remain, stay, live connected with Me.”

Somewhere along the way, many of us replaced abiding with accomplishing. We began measuring spiritual health by output instead of intimacy. But a man can be effective and still be empty.

Intimacy cannot be optimized. It must be chosen.

When Performance Replaces Presence

There was a season last year when More The Man was just starting to gain momentum. From the outside, it looked like spiritual fruit.

But inside, I sensed a quiet erosion. I was studying Scripture to prepare content and praying about strategy. I was thinking about impact, but I was not lingering in affection.

I was approaching Jesus with responsibility, not hunger. I was disciplined but not dependent. Everything looked spiritually aligned, but my heart felt less tender.

Revelation 2 speaks of a church that endured hardship and defended truth. Yet Jesus says, “You have left your first love.” That sentence still stops me when I read it.

Not lost your theology. Not abandoned your mission. But, instead, left your first love.

You can preach truth and drift relationally. You can lead boldly and grow cold quietly. Discipline is not the same as devotion.

We, as Christian men, need to hear this with clarity. Jesus is not impressed by our productivity. He is after our hearts.

The Lie That You Are Too Far Gone

The enemy rarely shouts at mature believers. He whispers. He convinces you that dryness means distance and that distance means failure.

If your time in the Word feels flat, you must be slipping. If your prayers feel distracted or non-existent, you must be disappointing Him. If you do not feel the fire, you must not be faithful enough.

But James 4:8 says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” That is a promise anchored in His character. It does not say repair yourself and then approach.

Psalm 63 was written in the wilderness. David was not comfortable or secure when he wrote, “My soul thirsts for You.” He was desperate.

Thirst is not weakness. It is evidence that you are alive.

If you still want Him, even in a faint way, that longing is proof that the Spirit is working in you. You are not too far. You are not disqualified.

But you must respond.

What Intimacy Actually Demands

Some of us believe that intimacy should feel dramatic. We imagine powerful emotional encounters and unmistakable spiritual highs. Sometimes God grants us those moments, but most of the time intimacy feels quieter and more costly.

It looks like turning off the noise when you would rather scroll. It looks like sitting still long enough for conviction to surface. It looks like confessing quickly instead of justifying silently.

Sometimes, it might be staying quiet and listening, waiting before moving.

John 10 says, “My sheep hear My voice.” That statement is not reserved for pastors or spiritual elites. It is a promise to sons.

If you belong to Him, you can hear Him. Sometimes His voice comes through a verse that will not let you move on. Sometimes it comes through discomfort that exposes pride or fear.

Intimacy is not chasing emotional intensity or simply going through the motions. It is carving out time for Him and being fully present, cultivating awareness that He is present in your boardroom, in your kitchen, in your temptations, and in your exhaustion.

Close Enough to Be Changed

Here is a conviction that has been building in my heart and mind this week:

The greatest tragedy in most Christian men’s lives is not moral collapse. It is a steady distance.

We can attend church, lead our families, provide faithfully, and still operate from spiritual self-reliance. We can quote Scripture while rarely lingering in His presence. We can appear strong while growing thin inside.

When intimacy thins, temptation grows louder. Anxiety grows sharper. Pride becomes more subtle and more dangerous.

But when we draw near, something steadies. Not because circumstances immediately shift, but because our foundation deepens. We remember who we are and Whose we are.

You do not need to become a better man before you draw near to Jesus. You become a stronger, steadier, humbler man because you draw near to Him.

So tomorrow morning, before the email and before the headlines, sit. Open His Word slowly and ask Him to search you. Do not rush past conviction, and do not rush past tenderness.

You do not need a spiritual reinvention. You need an honest return.

Draw near.

He has not moved. But you must choose closeness.

Be a man who walks closely enough to hear Him and humbly enough to be changed by Him.

Reflection for the Men of MTM

1. When did you last experience delight in the Lord rather than simply checking the box?

2. Where has productivity quietly replaced presence in your walk?

3. What distraction or ambition is thinning your intimacy right now?

4. What one concrete change can you make tomorrow morning to draw near?

5. Who can you invite into accountability so distance does not quietly grow again?

 -WIll