It is a truth universally acknowledged (to borrow from another writer, who never had to endure dial-up internet), that a person in possession of a smartphone must be in want of a strong Wi-Fi signal.
Whether it’s at home, in the coffee shop, or furtively trying to log on in the church hall basement — where concrete walls seem to repel the internet the way my great Aunt’s cat repelled visitors — we know the frustration of a weak connection. The page buffers. The spinning wheel turns. Hope begins to fade. And in those moments, one feels less like a saint in prayer and more like Job on a bad day.
I’ve had a few days of dealing with wi-fi troubles in the house. I woke one morning, and the Google Home was no longer able to control all the lights in the house on my voice command. That night I sat down in the living room and the TV would not log on to any of the streaming services that I use. It didn’t take long to diagnose that the Router was having troubles. Fixing those troubles has been much slower than the process of diagnosis.
I suspect our spiritual lives sometimes resemble Wi-Fi more than we’d care to admit. There are days when we feel the connection is strong, prayer flows easily, the scriptures speak with clarity, and we’re certain that God’s Spirit is closer than our next breath. Then there are days when everything feels patchy, and we wonder if heaven has accidentally changed the password.
Scripture, of course, doesn’t mention routers or wireless fidelity, but it does speak endlessly of connection. Jesus tells us in John 15, “Abide in me, and I in you… apart from me you can do nothing.” Paul reminds us that the Spirit intercedes for us when words fail, like the best kind of divine tech support. And the psalms are full of honest cries that sound suspiciously like: “Lord, are you still there? Can you hear me now?”
What’s comforting is that God is never the one who disconnects. The Spirit is constant, pulsing with grace, closer than the faintest signal bar on your phone. But our attention wavers. We wander out of range. We try to log onto networks of self-reliance, distraction, and anxiety, and then wonder why the connection feels so weak.
Here’s the good news: when our hearts buffer, when the signal flickers, the Spirit is still holding the line. Sometimes the pauses are not disconnection at all, but space given for us to slow down, breathe, and remember that God is not an app to be launched but a Presence to be received.
So, friends, the next time your Wi-Fi sputters, let it be a parable. Don’t despair. Instead, let it remind you of the One who is always seeking connection, who never drops the call, and whose Spirit patiently waits to flood our hearts again with peace, hope, and love.
And if you’re reading this in the church hall basement, where the Wi-Fi is more parable than reality, take courage. The Holy Spirit requires no password.
Prayer
Gracious God,
You are always present, even when our hearts feel disconnected.
When life seems to buffer and our spirits falter,
remind us that your Spirit is steady, sure, and unfailing.
Draw us close, renew our connection in love,
and keep us abiding in you,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.