Keep Reaching

Last night, I had a dream. One of those dreams that feels more like a movie than a memory. In it, I found myself standing in a foggy, endless space — a place so quiet it was almost loud. You know the type.

I looked up and there He was: God. Standing just far enough away to make me squint, but close enough that I knew exactly who it was. He looked relaxed, almost like He’d just finished a morning jog around the universe and was stopping by for a quick chat.

Instinctively, I lifted my hands toward Him. Every time I reached higher, He moved a little farther back. It felt like the world’s most frustrating game of tag.

“God!” I yelled. “Why do You keep moving away? Just let me get to You!”

He turned, smiling, and took a sip from what I could only assume was a cosmic latte. “You humans always want to ‘get’ somewhere. Always chasing a finish line, a final moment of clarity. But I’m not a destination. I’m the journey.”

I dropped my hands, exhausted. “Journey? God, I’ve been on a journey my whole life. I’m tired. I chant all the affirmations, I pray, I read the motivational quotes — ‘Trust the process,’ ‘God gives His toughest battles to His strongest soldiers,’ ‘Everything happens for a reason.’ I’m basically a walking inspirational poster at this point!”

He laughed — a laugh so deep it felt like it shook my bones. “I love your spirit. But you think those phrases are meant to fix the pain. They’re not. They’re there to help you keep moving, even when it hurts.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes. “But it feels like You’re so far away when I need You most. Like You’re playing hide and seek with my soul.”

God tilted His head thoughtfully. “When you feel Me pulling away, it’s not to abandon you. It’s to call you forward. To teach you to stand up on your own shaky legs. You think I’m leaving, but I’m just ahead, showing you how much farther you can go.”

I laughed through the tears. “So… you’re saying you’re my spiritual personal trainer? That’s cruel.”

“Exactly,” He said, grinning. “Except I don’t charge monthly fees or make you do burpees.”

I looked at Him, truly looked, and realized that every time I reached for Him, I grew a little stronger. Every time I stretched my heart beyond what felt safe, I discovered pieces of myself I didn’t know existed. The courage. The resilience. The quiet faith that refuses to die even after a thousand rejections and heartbreaks.

I asked, “So what’s next? What do I do now?”

God leaned closer, His eyes kind but fierce. “You keep reaching. You keep walking. You keep dancing, even when it feels like no one is watching. Because every awkward step, every tearful prayer, every whispered ‘why me?’ — that’s where I am. Not just at the end, but in every breath along the way.”

Before I could answer, He added, “Oh, and by the way — I saw those late-night kitchen dance moves. Your rhythm is questionable, but your spirit is pure gold.”

I stood there, laughing and crying at the same time, feeling more seen than I ever have.

When I woke up, my arms were still reaching up. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was chasing a God who was running away. I felt like I was following a God who believed in me more than I believed in myself.

Maybe that’s the point. We’re not meant to “catch” God like a prize at the end of a race. We’re meant to walk with Him, step by step, learning who we really are along the way.

So today, if you feel like you’re endlessly reaching and never arriving, don’t stop. Because every stretch, every stumble, every shaky breath — it’s working. He’s not far. He’s just a little ahead, waiting for you to discover the next, braver version of yourself.

Keep reaching. You’re closer than you think