The God Who Dwells Within

In the fall of 2001, on the eve of my dad’s quadruple bypass, my middle child pulled me aside with an earnest question. He was four years old—endlessly curious and wonderfully literal.

“When they cut into Grandpa’s heart,” he asked, “will they hurt Jesus?”

What a great question, buddy. And now I’m going to have to break it to you that there isn’t a little Jesus living in Grandpa’s heart. Or in yours. Disappointing, huh?

I fumbled through an answer that seemed to satisfy him and keep Grandpa’s salvation in tact.

But as I think back, I realize he was on to something. Obviously, as adults, we’ve outgrown such childlike notions of the Divine taking up physical residence in our bodies. And yet, what have we lost along with that imagination?

My son grasped a profound truth: God is not outside us. God dwells within.

“I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” - Ephesians 3:16–17a

Therefore, the pathway toward God involves turning inward.

That may sound obvious—or heretical—but how we envision this mystery deeply shapes our spiritual lives. I see it in leaders around the globe. When we forget that God dwells within, we begin to search for God only out there—in accomplishments, ministries, or others’ approval—rather than in the sacred center of our own being. 

Of course, we are not God—God is other. But each of us carries a spark of the Divine, a facet of God’s image expressed through our one-of-a-kind presence. With that, we’re invited to participate in the unique good for which we were created.

My passion is to help spiritual leaders respond to that call—to turn inward toward their center, where they connect to the transforming power of Love. This is the path of deepening inner strength.

It is not an easy path, but it is an ancient one.

Throughout the history of the Church, theologians, monastics, pastors, and mystics have guided seekers along this interior journey.

Sixteenth-century nun and Doctor of the Church, Teresa of Ávila illuminates it beautifully in The Interior Castle. She describes the soul as a vast, luminous castle made of crystal, filled with “mansions” or dwellings that lead inward toward union with God. Each dwelling marks a stage of growth—from self-knowledge and prayer to deep interior transformation—where the soul encounters temptations, distractions, and “reptiles” (symbols of sin and deception) that try to keep it from progressing. At the center lies the innermost chamber, radiant with divine presence, where Christ dwells in intimate union with the surrendered soul.

One of the greatest temptations is to try to quantify, explain, and systematize the spiritual journey. Early on, those frameworks can be helpful—they give us guideposts and language for what we’re experiencing. But as we mature, the journey becomes less definable. Less certain; more mysterious.

In this deeper terrain, companions and guides can be hard to find—especially in parts of the world where Christians are a small minority, where women receive fewer investments in their spiritual leadership, and where regional instability limits time and resources for this kind of pursuit.

This is why I am so passionate about the work of DeepWell.

It is a sacred privilege to accompany women and men who are giving their lives to build vibrant, healthy communities of Jesus-followers in the midst of great difficulty—to remind them they are not alone, that the Source of all that is dwells within them. That this Source knows them, surrounds them with love, and sends them out into the world to be bringers of light and love.