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Kevin David Kridner's avatar

This resonates—the way drift rarely begins with rebellion, but with fatigue and quiet distance. That feels deeply true.

I find myself hearing an older echo beneath it though. In the garden, God doesn’t arrive with a fix or a warning. He asks a question: “Where are you?” Not to diagnose, but to be with.

I wonder if what we often call drift is less a problem to solve and more a place God is already standing, inviting honesty rather than effort.

What if the way back begins not with fixing, but with answering that question?

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