1 Kings 19:4–5 (4)But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” (5)And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.”(ESV)
Friday’s question was simple: Am I here?
Maybe you started noticing moments when the answer was no. Good.
But don’t immediately turn those moments into accusations against yourself.
Elijah had just experienced an incredible victory on Mount Carmel. Then, almost immediately afterward, we find him exhausted, afraid, isolated, and asking God to let him die.
God’s first response wasn’t a lecture. Elijah slept. Then an angel gave him food and water.
Sometimes the reason we’ve checked out is remarkably ordinary. We’re tired. We’re hungry. We’re overwhelmed. We’ve been carrying too much for too long.
Not every moment of disengagement reveals some deep spiritual or relational problem.
That’s why noticing that you’ve checked out is only the beginning.
The next question is: Why?
Think about the places where you noticed yourself disappearing. What happened immediately before?
Were you tired?
Were you distracted?
Were you thinking about something else that genuinely needed your attention?
Were you bored?
Were you angry?
Did something hurt?
Were you afraid of where the conversation was going?
Did you feel like nobody was listening anyway?
Did you believe your participation wouldn’t change anything?
There are dozens of possible answers.
Don’t choose the one that sounds the most spiritual. Choose the one that’s true.
Then ask another question: Does this keep happening?
Checking out of one conversation doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Consistently checking out whenever a particular subject comes up might.
Having one miserable day at work doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Realizing that you’ve emotionally disappeared from your job for the last six months probably does.
Being distracted while your child tells you a story isn’t proof that you’re a bad parent. Realizing that you almost always become distracted when that child wants your attention deserves a closer look.
Patterns give us information that individual moments can’t. So change the subject and ask the question again.
Where am I present?
Work?
Marriage?
Parenting?
Friendships?
Church?
Prayer?
My own physical and emotional needs?
Now change the question slightly.
Where do I repeatedly disappear?
You may discover something surprising.
Maybe you aren’t checked out of your marriage. You’re checked out whenever conflict begins.
Maybe you aren’t checked out as a parent. You struggle to remain present when your child becomes emotional.
Maybe you haven’t checked out spiritually. You’ve become disengaged from one particular expression of your faith.
Maybe you haven’t stopped caring about your work. You’ve stopped believing that your effort matters there.
Those are very different problems. They’ll require very different responses.
There’s another question that can help us find the difference: What brings me back?
Pay attention to the moment when your interest returns.
If you feel completely absent during a meeting but immediately become engaged when the subject changes, something about that subject may matter.
If you feel distant at home until one particular person enters the room, that tells you something.
If prayer feels mechanical until you finally stop saying what you think you’re supposed to say and tell God what you’re actually thinking, that tells you something too.
Don’t only study where you leave. Study where you return. And remember Elijah.
God didn’t treat exhaustion like rebellion. Neither should we.
Sometimes you need repentance. Sometimes you need a difficult conversation. Sometimes you need to confront something you’ve been avoiding. Sometimes you need to change something.
And sometimes you need dinner and a good night’s sleep.
Wisdom is learning the difference.
Yesterday’s distraction may mean almost nothing.
But if you keep taking the same vacation every time you arrive at the same place, conversation, relationship, or subject, stop packing your bags long enough to ask:
Why do I keep going there?
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