Where We’re at With Jesus: Three Reflections

I wonder if in conversations with friends, household, family, you ever ask one another about faith in God, or where you’re at with Jesus? It feels like a recipe for awkward conversation. It certainly risks opening up the deep places of our lives to one another. We live and work and speak from such places every day: for better or worse, our lives “bear fruit” according to where our hearts are at with God.

Seems important, no? So, we thought we’d go there. We asked three people who recently attended Venn’s 2025 Summer Conference to reflect on how they’ve found themselves being drawn deeper into life with Jesus Christ—what’s changed, what life with God is like, and what they long for now.—Ed.

Ethan

If I had met you a year ago and asked you about where you were at with Jesus, what would you have said?

A year ago, someone from church asked me a similar question about where I was in my “walk with Jesus” and how he was speaking to me at the time. I felt confused—I didn’t understand what he meant. Hoping to grasp what an answer might look like, I asked him where Jesus was instead, but his response only left me more uncertain. I ended up telling him something along the lines of, “I don’t know.” The truth was, I wasn’t walking with Jesus. I didn’t know what that looked like or even what it meant.

What about now: how’s your life with Christ now?

I would describe my life with Christ as that of a father and son. He comforts me at the right moments, which amazes me every time. I lean on him, and he takes care of me, providing everything I need. I often feel like the favourite child. I feel great joy in knowing who I am in him. I know to the unbeliever the things I say can sound crazy. My life with Christ is that of stability, trust, and love.

In what ways do you long to go deeper in your life with God?

I often find myself reflecting on the Psalms, particularly Psalm 23:6:“Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” I long to dwell in the house of the Lord. I want to be more aware of God’s presence in my life on a daily basis. I desire to become a disciple of Christ, spending time with him as the disciples did in the Gospels. I know this may seem unrealistic in today’s busy world, but I mean it in the sense of abiding in Christ and his love—remaining in him as I go about my daily tasks: work, cooking, the gym, sports, and everything else. In John 15:9, Jesus says to his disciples: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” He continues in verse 12: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.” To love others out of the overflow of Christ’s love is how I want to live. This is the natural progression of a deep and loving relationship with the Father, and I believe this is how I become the man he created me to be.

Kay

If I had met you a year ago and asked you about where you were at with Jesus, what would you have said?

A year ago, my relationship with Jesus was… strained. He and I had known each other intimately for over a decade. We were seasoned friends. Our friendship had cycled back and forth through seasons of delight and intimacy, and disillusionment and distance. This time last year, it was more of the latter.

Things were less than pleasant because I had decided to get the ball rolling on a plan without first waiting for the green light from Jesus. It was, to my mind at least, a win-win situation—provided Jesus played his part.  If he did, his team would expand, I would get what I wanted, and Jesus would get the glory for it all. I prayed, and nagged, and petitioned, and eventually even begged. My ultimate hope may have been in him, but I had other temporal hopes contingent on his divine intervention. And one or two of those seemed so very close to crystallising, if only Jesus would play his part. Except he didn’t. Jesus refused to play ball, not on my terms anyhow. Jesus’s lack of participation and support of my plan was bitterly disappointing and acutely painful. No doubt my manipulation and borderline insubordination diminished his enjoyment of me too. Suffice it to say, Jesus and I were butting heads big time.

What about now: how’s your life with Christ now?

I have swapped strain for sweetness, praise God! The words of an old hymn ring true in a new way:

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
And to take him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
And to know, “Thus saith the Lord”.

Jesus showed me that I had ploughed ahead with my own scheme because I did not truly trust in him, his word, or his promises. I loved him, yes. And I wanted to trust him wholeheartedly. But the prospect of a temporal hope fulfilled inadvertently exposed the gap between my aspirational trust and reality.

Jesus, in his loving mercy and kindness, has been steadily growing my trust and confidence in him. He has proven (yet again) that he is a trustworthy God, a faithful friend, and a competent team captain. My own plan may have largely flopped, but he has orchestrated an alternative filled with surprise, delight, and blessing. It’s not all rainbows and flowers of course. Life is still marked with plenty of moments of doubt and disobedience (sorry, Lord!). I am a long way off from the spiritual maturity I long for. And the events of last year are testament to the fact that trusting Jesus can be costly. However, Jesus is showing me more and more that trusting him does not come at a net loss. I may miss out on my wants and preferences from time to time, but I paradoxically gain more than I could ask or imagine. I am so aware of and grateful for the sweetness of his self-giving and provision.

In what ways do you long to go deeper in your life with God?

In the last few months, I have developed a more consistent practice of prayer and time in the Word each morning. In those moments of quiet and solitude, I am drawn deeper into communion with and appreciation of God. When I come across confronting or confusing parts of Scripture, my curiosity about who God is and God’s activity in the world increases.

But the Lord is often neglected throughout the remainder of my day. I get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the day’s activity without being alert or attentive to the Spirit who wishes to speak with and lead me. There are some days where the Lord will not come to mind until the prayer I pray before each evening meal. I long for the entirety of my day to be steeped in communion with, appreciation of, and curiosity about the Lord and his doings. As Paul puts it in 1 Thessalonians, I long to “pray without ceasing”. Or, as Brother Lawrence puts it, I want to learn to “submit every moment to God”. Nathan McLellan hit the nail on the head earlier this year at Summer Conference: “prayer must be the foundation of every action we do”.

I am presently making my way through the fantasy series, Stormlight Archives. Those books feature a species called the Parshendi, who can hear and attune to underlying rhythms that beat independently of each creature. They include the Rhythms of Peace, Excitement, Joy, Longing—and so on. I suppose I want to be a bit like the Parshendi; that is, I want to be a creature who constantly listens for and tunes into whatever rhythm the Spirit might be beating.

Caleb

If I had met you a year ago and asked you about where you were at with Jesus, what would you have said?

A year ago, I knew I wanted a closer relationship with him, but didn’t really know where to start. I’d been blessed to grow up in a Christian family, but had never had the big pentecostal experiences of other friends, who spoke of hearing from God and feeling his Spirit’s presence and power. I wanted intimacy with him, but it was like radio silence. How could I abide in God when I didn’t feel him? How could I love him without hearing his voice? This absence led to disappointment. I was turning up to church and life group every week but was sporadic in prayer outside of that, and read Scripture even less. Old sins returned with a vengeance, and new ones moved into the neighbourhood. I believed, but was lacking in love. I felt more insecure and alone in my community. We had started a series on spiritual formation in life group, and it felt like every week I was more aware of my weakness and no closer to implementing the practices we spoke of. My solution was choosing obedience. It felt like a simplistic response, but I had committed to following Jesus and would follow through. One of the things I most cherished about God was his faithfulness—I was forgetful and prone to wander, but he was unchanging in his faithfulness and was good and worthy to be praised. So, I would try being faithful, praising him, thanking him, and praying my heart would learn to love him too.

What about now: how’s your life with Christ now?

Let me set the scene. I was away at Summer Conference, the sun beating down, and a family of ducks waddling by a stand of kahikatea. We were worshipping, when I encountered the voice of Jesus in Song of Songs: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away….” There was a deep intimacy to this, a being known and loved in every corner of my being, a tenderness that recaptured my heart. Somehow Jesus truly delighted in me. I was quieted by his love and my soul responded in kind. I was in love, and “on my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loves.” But all too soon I was back at work, back in Ordinary Time, and I discovered the longing in the remainder of that verse: “I sought him, but found him not.” I finally loved and sought closer intimacy with God, but it was like the clouds had rolled back in. That’s life. I love God and know he is everywhere and with me always, but I still ache with his absence. I’m asking him to help me seek and desire him more. I’m reading the psalms and crying out prayers like this: “My heart says to you, “Your face, Lord, do I seek.” Hide not your face from me.” I’m surely being formed by this yearning, this hunger and thirst for his presence, but I desperately want to find him too, and rejoice in hearing the voice of him whom my soul loves.

In what ways do you long to go deeper in your life with God?

I just want to desire God more. Much of my sin comes from my disordered desires, but I’m learning that “his steadfast love is better than life.” He is the living water, the only thing that truly satisfies. I’ve recently begun fasting. This has been humbling—I’ve been reminded of my weakness and sin, plagued by all the same old insecurities, yet so aware of God’s abundant grace and generosity. But I’m slowly growing to appreciate the hunger pangs of longing in this wilderness season. I am even finding joy in it. On Ash Wednesday I stumbled across these verses from another wilderness story, in Deuteronomy: “He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna… to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” Ah. I hear you, Lord. I’ve been wanting to hear his voice and all this time I’ve had a book full of his very words. So, I long to go deeper in Scripture, to thirst for his word and be attentive to his voice as he teaches me how to follow him. If “the heavens declare the glory of God” then let me notice their praise more often. Would I learn to pray continually, and have all my desires directed to him. Would I grow in faithfulness, and love for God and others. Would Jesus, this living water, saturate me and overflow.