Growing in Attentiveness to God
As the cliché accurately says, “There are only infants in prayer.” This post is written much less as a “how to” from the perspective of an expert, and much more as a few observations from a fellow sojourner on a common spiritual journey. This isn’t something I’ve mastered, but something I’m currently delving into. My aim is simply to get some thoughts out for my own growth; and maybe they’ll be helpful for you as well.
Alan Jacobs coined the phrase “omnivorous attentiveness” when referring to the life and imagination of C.S. Lewis. What he means is being attentive to everything; mainly to God, and to His beauty in creation.
The opposite of this attentiveness is described in Romans 1:18–21:
For God’s wrath is revealed from heaven against all godlessness and unrighteousness of people who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth, since what can be known about God is evident among them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, that is, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen since the creation of the world, being understood through what he has made. As a result, people are without excuse. For though they knew God, they did not glorify him as God or show gratitude. Instead, their thinking became worthless, and their senseless hearts were darkened.
Paul explains here that at the heart of what is wrong with the world is our lack of attentiveness to God and His beauty in creation. It seems this isn’t peripheral, but central to a life with God.
I was recently in a conversation with a girl in our church and home group who, reflecting on some of these ideas, pointed out that very few Christians actually live with this kind of attentiveness, awe, and wonder of God’s presence. We may know Christian doctrine well and do Christian things at church, but we often live without an awareness of God; without attentiveness to Him.
The Scriptures give us language for our aim:
“Rejoice in the Lord at all times.”
“Pray without ceasing.”
This consistent attentiveness to God; this posture of prayer that creates joy; seems to evade us.
Aware of the limitless distractions of our cultural moment, this is not a surprise. Screens, alerts, social media, bills, envy, things to buy, things to watch, things to check, texts to respond to… Even pastoral ministry can rob us of attentiveness to God through the constant doing for God without truly being with God.
I understand, at least partly, why the desert fathers and mothers escaped the distractions of their age in order to be attentive to God in solitude.
My question that I’m wrestling with is: what does this look like for a husband, a dad of two, and a church planter trying to be attentive to God in 2026?
Here are a few thoughts…
1. Subtractions
I read the Parable of the Sower this morning in my annual reading plan. The third soil chokes out the seeds because of thorns, which Jesus identifies as:
“Others are like seed sown among thorns; these are the ones who hear the word, but the worries of this age, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful.”
(Mark 4:18–19)
In order to experience attentiveness to God, and the fruitfulness that flows from this kind of life, we must remove things vying for our attention.
This clearly involves evil or sinful things, but I’ve recently been reflecting on what this could look like in my own life. I have begun quitting some of the “good” and even “great” things that are crowding out the “God” things.
This is not easy. It is often painful.
Expenses, apps, extra jobs, responsibilities, and even old friendships can be things here.
This subtraction can also look like spiritual practices: fasting (subtracting food for a time), sabbath (subtracting work for a time), silence (subtracting noise for a time), and solitude (subtracting people for a time).
With our constant state of noise and busyness, both externally and internally, subtracting what crowds out our lives with God can become a means of deeper attentiveness to Him.
2. Rhythms
I am a Type A personality who keeps a calendar filled with consistent practices, but I often show up to these scheduled spaces without a heart ready to engage with God.
I have a morning devotional space, an afternoon prayer set, frequent church attendance, sermon prep, counseling sessions, and time with family. These rhythms are constantly being tweaked and curated for optimization according to my values…
And yet I’m haunted by Jesus’ words:
“…but your heart is far from me.”
For some, adding the practices listed above would be a massive step forward. But for those of us who have been practicing them for years, sometimes even decades, our hearts can grow numb.
This is likely above my pay grade, but I wonder what it takes to consistently show up to these spaces with a heart drawing near to God.
There is also an aspect of this struggle that must consider our humanity. “From dust we were made and to dust we will return.” We are not divine beings, and therefore our hearts will be fickle until glory.
But I think many of us want more.
Is it humility that leads us into attentiveness? Is it desperation? Do we merely need to be reminded that how we show up matters? Or is it the “unforced rhythms of grace” that carry us in and out of attentiveness?
I have more questions than answers here. I simply want to point out that setting the correct rhythms is a starting point; but coming with a heart attentive to the One we are meeting with is what I’m longing for.
3. Community
This topic is yet another reminder that we cannot do this alone.
When I’m isolated from deep friendships and honest conversations about the spiritual life, my heart drifts into inattentiveness. But hearing others share openly about their own wrestles cuts my heart open again. It becomes a quiet invitation into the deeper things of God.
Hearing a friend talk about her lack of attentiveness… another about God’s perceived nearness… another about how fasting has helped him hear God’s voice… it breaks me out of religious monotony and into fresh encounter.
Like waking from a deep sleep, the crust is wiped from my eyes.
Without deep friendships, we will drift into what is often called “moralistic therapeutic deism.” This looks like following the rules, trying to feel good, but living without attentiveness to God.
The reality of the universe is that there is a God who not only created everything, but is sustaining everything and is sovereign over it all.
Every hair on my head is numbered. God cares about the tiny nuances of my heart.
Because of Jesus, we have union with God. The Spirit of Life literally lives inside of us.
This Divine Artisan, the wonder who created the peacock and tastebuds and coffee, lives inside of us.
And so often, we ignore this close Friend as we go through the normal rhythms of life, only trying to bring Him back into focus during the more “spiritual” moments. Or even worse, we go through those motions as if He isn’t there.
Life with God is on offer. He is securely present. “In His presence is fullness of joy and at His right hand are pleasures forevermore.” (Psalm 16:11) This full joy and lasting pleasure is found in attentiveness to God.
Let’s not allow our hearts to grow cold and numb as we go through religious motions. Let’s ask God to wake up our hearts to the wonder of God—to be attentive to His presence and beauty.