How to Read the Bible When You Feel Disconnected
There are seasons when the Bible feels like our dearest friend. We open its pages, and the words seem to rise to meet us—alive, warm, steadying. The words sit with us, wrap us in comfort, shelter us in tenderness.
And then there are other seasons.
You sit down. You try. The pages stay quiet. Your mind wanders. You read a paragraph two times, and still it falls flat, leaving you unmoved. Not because it’s meaningless, but because you feel... far. Disconnected.
If that’s where you are, please know that you’re not failing at faith. Even those who’ve built their lives around God’s work have sat where you’re sitting. When the Bible feels distant, it’s not because we’ve wandered off the path—it’s molding us to remain faithful even if it feels like a stretch.
Or, at times, it could be that you consider the Bible as a mere manual for morality, and you get easily repelled by it. But the Scripture is not all that. Not really. And it’s not a collection of ancient riddles we’re meant to decode with the right theological flashlight. Let me drop a little secret: as soon as the genuine love for God makes its home in your heart, the Bible ceases to sound like a rulebook but a love letter from God.
The Bible is written in the ink of history, poetry, anger, love, and wonder. Written for emotionally scarred people, flawed, searching, oftentimes failing, trying their best to grow into who they’re meant to be: God’s masterpiece. And through it all, it tells the story of a God whose faithfulness never falls short.
Even when they’re hiding.
Even when they’re ashamed.
Even when they’ve gone numb.
The Bible is also written to reveal to us who He is, what He’s like, not through abstract ideas, but through stories, parables, broken people, and unexpected grace. So if you’re reading the Bible like it’s something you have to “get right” before it can speak to you, you can let that go.
We Expect Fireworks. God Often Whispers.
Somewhere along the line, many of us were taught—directly or indirectly—that reading the Bible should always be “powerful.” It should feel like a spiritual light show. But more often, it’s like a constant striving to thread the words in the Scripture back to our hearts.
Sometimes there’s conversation. Sometimes there isn’t. But the presence is enough.
And isn’t that true in all of life? Love that endures doesn’t always dance. Sometimes it simply stays at the table even when we fall into silence—that hush, that stillness after the laughter. Boredom creeps in, but we choose to stay. In that same breath, we are committed to remaining faithful in our walk with God, to continue reading the Scripture even when the sparkles wear off, choosing commitment over the sweet spots, nurturing the deep roots, not just the bloom.
Just like love that endures, the spark will come back, tiding us over the in-between, pulling us through the slump. The invitation still stands: Come back. Start again. I’m still here.
Reading the Bible Is Like Learning to Hear Again
We live in a loud world. Notifications, headlines, to-do lists, small talk layered over deeper exhaustion. In the middle of that, the Bible isn’t going to shout to get our attention.
It invites.
It waits.
Try opening the Bible like you would a long, honest letter from someone who knows you better than you know yourself. A living, breathing story from the mind of God, who is not only holy and just, but also deeply kind. You don’t have to race through it. It’s better if you don’t. There’s no pressure to have a lightbulb moment every time you read. It’s okay if it feels messy or slow.
Start with a small passage—just a verse or two—early in the morning when the house is hushed, or in the liminal quiet before bed. When something feels off or unsettling, don’t rush past it. That might be exactly where the Spirit is doing His best work. Let the text shape you gradually, like a friend who keeps showing up—not to give all the answers, but to lead you toward something deeper than clarity: trust.
Let the Bible Surprise You
The first time I read the Bible with fresh eyes, I was startled—not by what I didn’t understand, but by what I hadn’t noticed before. The deep affection of David towards God. The quiet grief of God watching things unravel as David ached for the loss of his beloved son Absalom. And the list goes on.
Delight Yourself in Knowing God
Love, at its core, is a gentle devotion to seeing the object of our affection in its totality. When we’re in love, aren’t we naturally inclined to get curious about our beloved’s quirks? We begin to notice the facial expressions they make when they’re annoyed, the way they read the news with one foot slightly raised, what makes them laugh—the quirks that make them delightfully unique.
And then, we want to know them down to the bone. We begin to explore who they are beneath the surface. We want to gather the fragments, to sit with their stories, their quiet thoughts. We start to notice the stories tucked behind their smile, the small habits that reveal their character.
It is the same with God.
Lately, I have been quite curious about God, to hear the things He doesn’t say out loud, to step gently into the spaces He rarely shows.
Does He have a sense of humor?
Does God get annoyed? What annoys Him?
Is God an introvert or an extrovert?
Does God notice the tiny stuff?
Is He nostalgic?
Does God shed tears? What were the moments that made Him cry?
Does He ever feel misunderstood?
What made Him love David so deeply that He called him a man after his own heart (1 Samuel 13:14)?
Why would God choose Paul, the fiercest persecutor of the Church? What did He see in him? And what does His choice say about Him?
We want to know Him beneath the surface, to witness the parts of Him He doesn’t name out loud. To know Him in the pauses between His thoughts—the silent truths folded beneath the sentences written in the Scripture. There’s a kind of emotional archaeology in it: you dig gently, slowly. In the questions that go unanswered. In the way a chapter ends, not with resolution, but with a lingering ache.
Reading the Scripture with intent and insatiable curiosity can plant a seed of fascination and reignite your passion for reading God's Word. And most of all, asking the Holy Spirit to set your heart on fire for the sacred text, for the Living Word, makes a huge difference when trying to rekindle your zeal for the Scripture.
“Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.” Jeremiah 33:3 NKJV
And here’s the scoop: God never made the Bible baffling or mind-bending for those who sincerely seek Him, those who have receptive hearts, as it is written: “The unfolding of your Words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple” (Psalm 119:130).
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Originally published July 28, 2025.
