When God Moved Into Your Neighborhood
From the opening chapters of Genesis to the closing verses of Revelation, the story of Scripture is not primarily about rules, rituals, or religion. It is the story of a God who desperately wants to be with His people. Not because He needs us, but because He loves us.
God is relational at His very core. “God is love” (1 John 4:8), and love cannot exist in isolation—it always seeks connection. From the moment He breathed life into Adam, God was initiating relationship. He walked in the garden with His creation. And even after sin shattered that perfect communion, God never stopped pursuing us. He called Abraham. He led Israel. He sent prophets. He dwelt in a tabernacle—not because He needed a tent, but because He wanted to be near His people (Exodus 25:8).
Yet His love didn’t stop there. When the tabernacle wasn’t enough, God came in person. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). The Greek literally says He “tabernacled” with us. Jesus walked our roads, shared our meals, felt our pain. He didn’t just tell us He loved us—He moved into the neighborhood to prove it.
And when He died on the cross, the temple veil tore from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51), symbolizing that nothing now stands between us and God. The presence that once rested behind a curtain now lives in the hearts of believers. We are “temples of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:19), meaning God no longer lives in a building. He lives in you.
Why? Because He still wants to be with His people. Because He wants to be with you.
This kind of love is hard to grasp. We often treat our relationship with God like a performance review: Do enough good, avoid enough bad, and maybe He’ll approve of us. But God is not looking for employees—He’s looking for children. He doesn't measure your worth by your track record but by the cross. His love is not earned. It’s poured out freely.
Still, we struggle. We make promises like Israel did—“Everything the Lord has said we will do!”—but fall short. We try to obey out of obligation instead of covenant. We confuse proximity to God with transformation by God. But Ezekiel reminds us: true obedience begins when God gives us a new heart (Ezekiel 36:26). It's not about trying harder—it’s about surrendering deeper.
So how do we respond to a God who wants to be with us? We spend time with Him not out of duty, but desire. We stop replaying our sins and start living in grace. We invite Him into our ordinary moments, knowing even our work can be Spirit-empowered. We remember that His justice is always covered by His mercy.
And most of all, we trust: God wants to be with you. Not just in heaven someday, but here, today, now. Because love always moves toward the beloved. And in Christ, that beloved is you.