We’ve all done it. You see a text notification from a friend, you mean to reply, but life gets in the way. Three hours become three days, then three weeks, and suddenly the silence is so heavy that replying feels too awkward to attempt. We call it “ghosting,” and while it’s a frustrating habit in our social lives, it’s a devastating one in our spiritual lives. Most of us don’t lose our faith in a single, dramatic moment of rebellion; we simply “fade.” We stop replying to the nudges of the Holy Spirit, letting the digital noise of our lives drown out the conversation with our Creator until the thread goes cold.

The root of this spiritual ghosting is often found in our obsession with efficiency. We try to “optimize” our walk with God, treating prayer like a 10-minute task to be checked off a to-do list rather than a person to be known. Like Martha in the kitchen, we become so “busy” doing things for God that we stop being present with Him. We convince ourselves that God understands our busyness, but the truth is that efficiency is often the enemy of intimacy. When we treat God like a specialized consultant we only call during office hours, we miss the “good portion” of simply sitting at His feet.

Beneath the busyness, however, lies a deeper fear: the fear of being truly known. We stay in the “bushes” of our lives—much like Adam and Eve in the garden—because we assume that if we step into the light, we’ll be met with a lecture or a “read receipt” of disappointment. We use silence as a defense mechanism, thinking that if we don’t talk to God about our failures, He won’t notice them. But God isn’t a petty friend waiting for an apology; He is an omniscient Father who already knows our worst parts and loves us anyway. Hiding doesn’t protect us; it only isolates us from the grace we desperately need.

Breaking the cycle of ghosting doesn’t require a grand spiritual overhaul; it requires a return to rhythm. As we see in the story of the Prodigal Son, the Father isn’t waiting for a polished, multi-point speech before He welcomes us back. He’s already on the porch, looking at the horizon. You don’t have to apologize for the gap before you can start the conversation. The ghosting ends the moment you stop hiding and simply acknowledge where you are. A shaky, honest “Lord, I’m here” is worth more than a thousand perfectly scripted prayers that you never actually say.

This week, I want to challenge you to “reply to the thread.” Put the phone in another room, turn off the podcast for the last five miles of your drive, and create just a few inches of margin for the Holy Spirit to speak. Stop waiting for a lightning bolt and start listening for the whisper. You’ll find that God hasn’t been tapping His watch in judgment; He’s been “typing” all along, waiting for you to re-engage. Remember, small ripples of honesty today can lead to a lifetime of transformation.