Come CloserSample

As a passenger, you know this: the distance to the car in front feels completely different from the passenger seat than it does from the driver’s seat. While the driver remains relaxed, the passenger is braking internally, already reaching mentally for the handbrake—even though it doesn’t exist. Because without control, closeness can quickly feel threatening.

And that doesn’t just apply in a car. It’s also true in our faith.

Sometimes we keep God at a distance—not because we reject Him, but because closeness might mean loss of control: What happens if I really draw near to Him? If I fully expose myself to Him, if I let myself be seen, if I allow Him to touch me? Maybe He’ll change something I’m not ready to let go of. Maybe He’ll see things I’d rather keep hidden. Maybe it’ll get uncomfortable.

Or simply: too close.

Moses wasn’t searching. He hadn’t planned a great encounter with God—he was at work, tending sheep in the desert.

Suddenly, he sees something that doesn’t fit into his worldview: a bush that burns but is not consumed. He becomes curious and approaches. But at that very moment, God speaks: Do not come any closer.

So which is it? Come closer—or don’t?
An invitation—or a boundary?

This raises the very questions we’ll explore over the next 14 days:
Do I want to come closer?
What keeps me at a distance?
What does it take to come closer?
And what happens when I do?

Maybe you’ve felt for a long time that God is calling you.
Maybe you’ve longed for closeness, but haven’t dared to allow it.
Maybe you’ve lost it.
Or maybe it was never really there.

This reading plan is not meant to be a spiritual challenge or a religious to-do list.
It’s meant to show you a path.

And that path begins today—with a question:

“Jesus, why is it sometimes hard for me to come closer to You—and what do You want to tell me about that?”

Note:
At the end of each day, you’ll find a question for God. These are not exercises, but invitations to a conversation with Jesus.
Take a moment to listen to Him.
Maybe something will grow from it—something that lasts.