The Slow Drift Away from God

Dan Ho was 63 years old, and he did this all the time.

Every morning, he drove down to Cedar Beach on Long Island and

waded into the Atlantic for a he knew those waters and was

comfortable there. It was just a normal Monday morning in July of

2023. So he walked in and started swimming. He didn't feel

anything unusual, no sudden pull or a moment of panic. The water

felt like it always felt. But at some point, he looked up, and

the shore was gone. Somewhere in that ordinary morning swim, a

rip current had taken him, very gradual and subtle, without a

single moment he could point to and say, that's when it happened.

Now, he was alone in the open Atlantic Ocean, and he had no

idea how far out he was. He traded water and looked for

boats, or for that matter, anything. And then he waited for

five hours. We'll come back to what happened out there in a

moment. But

first, welcome to Daily Devotions for Busy Lives. I'm

Bart Leger. Let me ask you something. When did you last

feel genuinely close to God? And when did that start to change?

For most people, the answer to the second question is, "I'm not

really sure." There wasn't a decision. Life just got busy.

And somewhere along the way, without any single dramatic

turning point, God started to feel far away. That's not an

unusual story. It's one of the most experiences in the

Christian life. And Hebrews 2: 1 calls it out: "So we must listen

very carefully to the truth we have heard, or we may drift away

from it." Drift. That's the word the writer chooses. It doesn't

mean we've rebelled against God, but simply drifted. Because

that's how it almost always happens. A skipped quiet time

becomes a week without one. A busy Sunday becomes a month of

skipped church. Prayer shrinks down to crisis moments only. The

Bible sits on the nightstand, and days pass without it being

opened. None of these felt like major decisions at the time.

Each one feels like a small temporary shift. But small

adjustments in the same direction over enough time add

up to a long way from home. The frightening about a drift is

that it doesn't feel like anything while it's happening.

And that's what makes it dangerous. A dramatic rebellion

would at least register as a choice. A drift feels like

ordinary life moving at its ordinary pace. You're not angry

at God or not walking away. You're just busy and you're

tired. You're going where life takes you. And one day you look

up and the shore isn't where it used to be. The writer of

Hebrews understood this. The letter was written to followers

of Jesus, people who had already known the truth, who had already

heard the gospel, who had already committed their lives to

Christ. The warning wasn't for unbelievers. It was for people

exactly like you and me. People who can drift, not because they

stopped believing, but because they stopped paying attention.

So what does a drift look like in practical terms? It usually

starts with the spiritual disciplines. Prayer times get

shorter. Scripture reading becomes occasional. The internal

conversation with God that used to be ongoing goes quiet. These

are the things nobody else can see, which is part of the reason

why they can slip so easily. From there, the drift moves

outward. Community becomes less of a priority, and

accountability all but disappears. Worship starts to

feel like an obligation instead of a response. And because none

of this happens overnight, there's no single moment to

repent of. We really don't remember when we started to

drift. Just a vague sense that something's missing, and you're

not sure when it left. But here's the good news. God's

ready for you to return to Him. All it takes is a choice. Even

as you begin one step at a time. One morning back in the Word.

One honest prayer that admits you've been distant. One Sunday

back in a pew. One conversation with a friend who will ask you

the hard questions. The steps back are pointing you back in

the right direction. And here's what I want you to know about

God's attitude towards the person who's drifted. He's not

standing at a distance with his arms crossed waiting for you to

explain yourself. He's the Father in Luke 15, scanning the

horizon for the returning son, and then running toward him

before the son even finishes his rehearsed speech. The drift

doesn't change God's disposition toward you. It only changes your

proximity to Him. And proximity is something you can close one

step at a time starting today. Now let's get back to Dan. So

Dan Ho is out there in the Atlantic, alone and no shore in

sight. He's treading water for five hours, but he didn't panic.

He stayed as calm as he could. And at some point, he spotted

something floating nearby. A broken fishing pole. So he took

off his shirt, tied it to the pole, and started waving it in

the air like a flag. Two men in a boat, Jim Hohorst and Michael

Ross, were passing roughly two and a half from where Dan had

entered the water. They saw something waving. So they turned

toward it. And they found him and pulled him out. Two and a

half miles. That's how far the current had taken him. In a swim

he had made hundreds of times before and waters he knew by

heart. Here's the part I don't want you to miss. Dan never felt

a single dramatic tug. There was no warning moment and no loud

alarm. The current just did what currents do. It moved slowly and

steadily until the shore was something he couldn't even see

anymore. And that's exactly what Hebrews 2: 1 is warning us about.

Not a dramatic rebellion or a memorable turning point, just a

slow, subtle drift that nobody notices, including the person

being carried. So let me ask you, when was the last time you

looked up and checked if you've moved away from Jesus? Because

the current doesn't announce itself, it just moves. And if

you're not actively paying attention, you can travel a long

way from home without ever feeling like anything is wrong.

Here's today's challenge. Take an honest look at the last 30

days. How often did you open your Bible? How consistent was

your prayer life? Have you been in community with other

believers? Or have you been doing this alone? You're not

looking for a perfect record, you're just looking for the

drift. And if you spot it, don't wait for a better time to start

back. Take one small step today. Open your Bible. Say an honest

prayer. Text someone who will ask how you're really doing. The

shore is still there, God hasn't moved. And one step back in the

right direction is all it takes to start closing the distance.

Lord, you see we are. Forgive us for drifting away from you. We

just want to come back. Draw us close again and remind us that

you've been watching for us the whole time. Give us the grace to

take one step back today. In Jesus name. Amen. If this

episode spoke to where you've been, would you share it with

someone who might need to hear it today? Just go to

dailydevotionsforbusylives.com/210 and copy the link. It only

takes a second and it might be exactly what someone in your

life needs right now. Thanks for joining me on Daily Devotions

for Busy Lives. Remember the drift is slow and silent, but so

is the return and God's already watching for you. Come back next

time for more encouragement to help you live grounded in God's

truth. Until then, God bless and have a great day.