We are not called to occasional fellowship with God, but to continual communion.— Brother Lawrence
Apart from Christ, we can do nothing, not even begin to be what we are meant to be.— John Stott
There is something deeply human about the desire for a place to belong, a space where we are not merely passing through, but where we can settle, rest, and remain. This longing is not accidental; it reflects the very heart of God toward us. From the beginning, His desire has never been for occasional encounters, but for continual dwelling.
In the Old Testament, the richness of this invitation is captured in the Hebrew word yashab, a word that begins with something as simple as ‘to sit down,’ yet unfolds into ‘to remain, to settle, to inhabit.’ It carries the sense of permanence, not movement; of residence, not visitation. Its first appearance is seen in Genesis 4:20, where Jabal is described as the father of those who dwell in tents, those who settle and live in a place. When the Psalmist later declares, ‘He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High,’ he is describing a life that has chosen God as its settled habitation, not a refuge visited only in moments of need.
Alongside this, another word deepens the picture, lun, meaning to lodge, to stay overnight, to remain under covering. Its first appearance is found in Genesis 19:2, when Lot invites his visitors to come into his house and spend the night. This language introduces the idea of hospitality, shelter, and protection. Together, these words reveal a profound truth: those who make God their dwelling place, who continually remain in Him, enter into a life marked by rest, covering, and abiding security.
Then, in the fullness of time, what had long been promised became flesh. God did not merely visit. He came to dwell. Emmanuel, God with us, walked among men. He revealed the Father’s heart, extended grace, and invited many into relationship. Yet even then, many did not perceive Him. Crowds gathered for miracles but drifted away; leaders resisted Him; and only a few remained.
It was to these few, on the eve of His suffering, that Jesus spoke words that would carry eternal weight. Having loved them to the end, having served them in humility, He called them into something deeper:
The word He used, meno, means to remain, to continue, to stay. This was not a suggestion, but an invitation into living union. As the vine is the source of life for every branch, so Christ offers Himself as the continual source of life, strength, and fruitfulness for His people. But the branch must remain connected. Its life, its growth, and its fruit all depend on that abiding union.
For the disciples, and for us, this is both an invitation and a charge. The outcome of our lives is inseparably tied to the depth of our connection to Him. A branch does not strive to bear fruit; it simply remains, and the life of the vine does the rest. In the same way, the evidence of Christ abiding in us is seen in how His Word abides in us, shaping our desires, directing our prayers, and producing fruit that glorifies the Father:
Here lies the secret of a life that is fruitful, effective, and full of joy: not in striving, but in dwelling.
As we begin this 40-day journey, we are not merely committing to a spiritual exercise; we are responding to a divine invitation. A life of abiding is not reserved for a few. It is the calling of every believer. There is a depth of satisfaction, a richness of presence, and a fruitfulness of life that awaits those who will choose to remain.
May the Lord grant us grace in this season, not just to seek Him, but to stay with Him; not just to visit His presence, but to dwell in it. And as we do, may we discover the quiet joy of being rooted in Him, sustained by Him, and filled with the fullness that only His presence can give.
Take a moment today to pause before Him. Ask yourself honestly: have I been visiting, or have I been dwelling? What would it look like for me to truly remain in Him, through His Word, in prayer, in daily awareness of His presence? Bring your heart before Him and simply say:
Lord, teach me to dwell. Settle my heart in You. Let my life be rooted in Your presence, and let Your Word live richly within me. Make me fruitful as I remain in You. Amen.