Drawn back to Awe

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,

    and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.- Proverbs 9:10

There was a time when simply being in God's presence filled you with awe.

When His holiness left you speechless, and you approached Him with a trembling heart, overwhelmed by who He is. Every prayer, every song, every quiet moment felt sacred, and you found yourself longing for more of Him.

Do you remember it?

I do.

But somewhere along the way… something shifted.

Not all at once. Just slowly. The way a fire doesn't go out in a single gust, it quietly loses its heat when no one tends to it.

My faith didn't waver. I still trusted, still believed, still hoped. But somewhere along the way… reverence began to fade. The awe of God grew quiet.

We still did the things, but not out of holy fear or reverence for God. What once came from love and awe slowly turned into obligation… duty… something we did rather than something we desired to do for Him.

And without even realizing it… something shifted within us.

I think many of us walk out our faith sincerely and still end up somewhere we didn't mean to go.

Not because we stopped caring, but because we were human… hurting… and doing our best.

And without realizing it, awe quietly slipped out the back door while we were busy holding everything together. And when awe fades, something subtle takes its place.

Sometimes it looks like trying harder, doing all the "right" things, but feeling distant inside.

Sometimes it looks like disappointment because life doesn't look the way you thought it would if you followed God.

Sometimes it looks like striving to defend truth, but forgetting the tenderness of His heart.

And sometimes… it doesn't look like anything obvious at all.

It just feels like a quiet discontent you can't quite name.

I know that one well.

The low hum of dissatisfaction that colors your prayers, your perspective, and your patience. The subtle ache of feeling like you're doing everything right… and still waiting for something to shift.

“We dishonor God and His Word when we think or speak from the posture of discontent.”
— John Bevere, The Awe of God

That stopped me. Because discontent can be so quiet, so dressed up in spiritual language, that we don't recognize it for what it is. But a heart that truly stands in awe of God, that heart trusts. It rests. It says He is good, even when the circumstances haven't yet caught up to that truth.
Reading The Awe of God by John Bevere stirred something in me I didn't even realize had grown dull. It gave language to what I'd been feeling but couldn't quite name. And it made me ask a hard but honest question:

"What if I've been relating to God more out of pressure than reverence?"
Because there's a kind of fear that pushes you away from God… and there's a holy awe that draws you close. And they are not the same thing, not even close.

—  One makes you hide. The other makes you fall at His feet.
—  One says, "Don't mess this up.   The other whispers, look at who He is.
—  One keeps you striving.   The other brings you to surrender.

Holy awe, it's not about being afraid of God. It's about being so undone by who He is that everything else loses its grip on you. It's the recognition that He is holy, sovereign, utterly worthy, and that recognition changes the way you live, the way you speak, the way you approach Him.
And when you really begin to see Him that way, not just as Savior, but as the One who is altogether holy, everything changes.

You stop trying to earn what was already given. You stop living like God is distant or disappointed in you. And instead… your heart softens. The defensiveness falls away. The striving quiets.
You begin to want what He wants. You begin to love what He loves. You begin to turn away from things not out of obligation, not out of fear of consequences, but because they no longer fit who you're becoming. Because true obedience flows from a heart that trusts God completely. He knows what's best, loves us deeply, and His plans are always good.

My soul is always stirring to draw near to God, not because I'm perfect, but because I know how much I need Him. Scripture reminds me, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9). I don't want to become numb or hardened to His voice. I want to stay tender before Him, always asking: Where am I not fearing Him or living in reverence? Psalm 25:14 says, "The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him, and He will show them His covenant." It's a reminder that true intimacy with God is reserved for those who approach Him with awe, reverence, and a humble, searching heart.

That's what holy awe does. It wakes us up. It brings clarity. It realigns our hearts with what matters most: living close to God, not just knowing about Him.
It doesn't pressure you into holiness. It draws you into it. Gently. Persistently. Like the kindness of God that leads us to repentance, not shame, not fear, but love so holy it changes you from the inside out.

“I am chasing after holiness with the full intent to apprehend it. My goal is to be holy as God is holy.”— John Bevere, The Awe of God

That's the posture I want. Not passive. Not waiting until I feel more ready or more worthy. Actively chasing not in my own strength, but fully surrendered to the One who makes holiness possible in the first place.
Because God doesn't call us to holiness and leave us to figure it out alone. He gives us His Spirit. His Word. Community, grace, and the daily, open invitation to come closer. He is patient with us in our process. He is gentle with us in our wandering. And He is faithful to finish what He started.

• Not perfection — but pursuit.
• Not striving — but surrender.
• Not earning — but receiving.

And maybe that's the invitation and the challenge for all of us today. Don't settle for a faith that drifts into routine or loses its reverent awe. Refuse to settle for going through the motions. Instead, pursue Him with intention. Rediscover the holy, reverent awe that first awakened your heart, a deep sense of wonder shaped by the greatness and holiness of God, and let it draw you deeper than ever before. Not to return to who you were in the beginning, but to press forward toward the One who was there in that beginning. The One who hasn't moved. The One who still waits, not just gently and faithfully, but eagerly, calling you to more.

To let Him restore what slowly faded. To let Him replace discontent with trust, striving with rest, and routine with reverence.

Because God never moved. Not once. Through every detour, every dry season, every moment we lost the wonder, He was still there. Still drawing. Still faithful.
And even now… He's still drawing us.

• Back to wonder.
• Back to closeness.
• Back to awe.

"Blessed are those who fear the Lord, who find great delight in his commands." Psalm 112:1

I don't want a surface-level faith. I want a life that fully, honestly, and without reservation responds to who God really is.

A life that says  You are holy. You are good. You are worthy.
A life that doesn't just know those words… but lives from them.
And because of that… I will not settle for less than all God has for me. I want to be changed. I want to be marked by holiness and reverent awe, living each day with a deep, unshakable awe and fear before who He is.

May we never settle for routine faith but pursue God with reverent awe, choosing daily what pleases Him. Let holy fear keep our hearts tender, our obedience joyful, and our lives aligned with His will. Lord, restore to us the wonder of Your presence, and let everything we do flow from deep love and holy reverence for You.

So, come back to awe—He is waiting.

If this has touched your heart, I encourage you to purchase a copy of John Bevere's book, The Awe of God, and let it deepen your journey into holy reverence. (Here)