Dare to Draw Near -part2

There’s a difference between a God who exists and a God who reveals Himself. From the moment man fell in Eden, God has been on a mission—not just to rescue us from sin, but to bring us back to Himself. And yet, every time He has drawn near, humanity has often responded with hesitation, fear, or withdrawal. Nowhere is this clearer than in the story of Mount Sinai.

The Israelites didn’t arrive at Mount Sinai by accident. They were delivered from Egypt not just to be free, but to know the God who freed them. God’s own words were clear: “I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to Myself.” He didn’t simply offer protection or provision—He offered presence. At Sinai, God revealed His holiness in fire, thunder, cloud, and trembling earth. He was establishing a covenant, giving them a national identity, and offering to dwell among them. His desire was not to remain distant, but to create a kingdom of priests—a people who would draw near, know Him, and make Him known.

Despite all this, when the moment came, the people stood back. “Let not God speak with us, lest we die…” They had seen miracles. They had heard God’s voice. They had consecrated themselves for this moment. But when heaven touched earth, they were terrified—and they chose distance over nearness. God had offered relationship. They settled for religion.

This is not just Israel’s story—it’s ours too. We do the motions. We attend the services. We listen to the sermons. But when God truly draws near—when His presence begins to move beyond our expectations—we often retreat. We prefer the safety of form to the disruption of fire. Why? Because real nearness demands more than ritual. It demands surrender. It awakens two ancient enemies: fear and unbelief.

Fear says, “God is too holy. I’m not worthy.” Unbelief says, “God won’t really meet me. Nothing will happen.” These two voices have silenced generations of would-be seekers. And yet, God keeps inviting.

Moses also trembled at his first encounter. But he didn’t run. He turned aside. He removed his shoes. He stayed. His first encounter at the burning bush taught him something the people had not yet learned: God’s fire does not consume those He calls—it transforms them. Moses dared to draw near. The people stood afar off.

When Moses lingered in God’s presence, the people grew restless. They built a god they could control—a golden calf. It wasn’t just idolatry. It was a replacement for a relationship they never learned to trust. They had the promise, but not the heart. They had been brought to the mountain—but never came up it.

Throughout the story of scripture, God keeps coming closer. To Abraham, He came as a man. To Samuel, He came as a voice in the night. To David, He came as a lifelong obsession. And in Jesus, He came as flesh and blood. He came to dwell, not to terrify. He came to invite, not to drive away.

“Let us draw near with a true heart, in full assurance of faith…” says the book of Hebrews. This generation is again being called—not just to believe in God, but to seek His face. Not just to obey, but to love. Not just to serve, but to host His presence.

God is not distant. But He is holy. And He still asks: Who will dare to draw near?

Kay Alli