TomNicholas.org

If awe has been lost, the natural question follows:
How is it restored?

Not by trying harder.
Not by increasing intensity.
Not by returning to stricter rules or looser boundaries.

Awe is not something we manufacture. It is something that happens to us when God is once again allowed to be God.

Scripture never commands us to feel awe. It invites us to stand in the presence of One who produces it.

Awe Returns When God Is Allowed to Interrupt

One of the clearest signs that awe has faded is our discomfort with interruption.

We plan carefully. We schedule tightly. We move quickly. Even our spiritual lives are often organized around efficiency. Prayer fits where it can. Scripture is read when it doesn’t press too deeply. Conviction is postponed until later.

But the God of Scripture is not polite in this way.

He interrupts Abram’s future.
He disrupts Moses’ routine.
He stops Saul on the road.
He overturns assumptions, plans, and timelines.

Awe is restored not when life becomes quieter, but when we stop defending ourselves against interruption.

When God is allowed to interrupt our schedules, our assumptions, and our momentum, fear begins to return—not as dread, but as recognition.

Awe Returns When God Is Allowed to Speak First

Much of modern faith begins with our questions, our needs, our explanations. Scripture is often consulted in response to life rather than allowed to address life on its own terms.

But the fear of the Lord grows where God speaks first.

Awe returns when Scripture is not rushed, softened, or explained away. When difficult passages are allowed to remain difficult. When God is permitted to disagree with us and still be trusted.

Wisdom begins when we listen before we interpret.

Awe Returns When God Is Allowed to Command

This is one of the most uncomfortable places for modern faith.

We are comfortable with invitation.
We struggle with authority.

Yet Scripture never apologizes for God’s right to command. Not because He is harsh, but because He is holy—and because His commands are rooted in reality as it truly is.

Awe returns when obedience is assumed rather than endlessly negotiated. When we stop asking, “Do I have to?” and begin asking, “What would faithfulness look like here?”

This kind of obedience is not driven by fear of punishment. It flows from recognition: God knows what I cannot see.

Awe Returns When Silence Is Not Rushed

We often fill silence because silence exposes us.

Silence confronts distraction.
Silence disrupts control.
Silence leaves room for God to speak.

Throughout Scripture, awe is often born in moments of stillness—not because God is absent, but because He is near. When silence is allowed to linger, we remember that we are not the center, and strangely, that becomes a relief.

A God who must be constantly explained, filled in, or managed will never be feared.

Awe Returns When We Stop Domestication

The fear of the Lord is not lost because God has changed. It is lost because we have slowly domesticated Him.

We have learned how to talk about God without expecting Him to act.
We have learned how to pray without listening.
We have learned how to obey selectively without surrender.

To recover awe is to repent—not of emotionlessness, but of control.

This is why Scripture describes the Spirit as wind and fire. Not chaotic, but uncontrollable. Not destructive, but untamable.

An uncaged Spirit does not guarantee comfort.
He guarantees truth.

Awe Is a Gift, Not a Technique

The fear of the Lord does not return because we pursue awe directly. It returns because we place ourselves where God is free to reveal Himself.

We slow down.
We listen longer.
We obey sooner.
We relinquish control more readily.

And over time, awe re-emerges—not as spectacle, but as gravity. Life begins to reorient. Decisions carry weight again. Obedience feels grounded. Faith becomes sturdy rather than performative.

Awe rearranges life because it re-centers God.

The Way Forward

The fear of the Lord is restored wherever God is no longer managed, muted, or negotiated with—where He is trusted enough to interrupt, command, and lead.

This restoration does not begin in buildings or programs.
It begins in ordinary life.

In how we listen.
In how we respond.
In how we allow God to stand at the center again.

Tomorrow, we will turn to what this restored awe produces—not in theory, but in lived wisdom—and how it steadies a people in a distracted and divided world.

Because awe does not paralyze life.
It finally gives it weight.