William Gurnall’s words capture the paradoxical experience many believers encounter in their spiritual journeys: grappling with times when God seems distant or silent. Trusting in a “withdrawing God” does not imply faith in abandonment, but rather faith amidst the veiling of divine presence. Spiritual history, from the psalmists’ cries to Christ’s own lament on the cross, demonstrates that withdrawal is an experiential reality in the life of faith; yet it is precisely within those seasons of apparent absence that trust is called upon most deeply.
To trust God under these circumstances is to believe He remains at work and faithful, regardless of emotional reassurance or outward evidence. The soul’s longing and sense of loss become, paradoxically, signs of love; absence is only keenly felt where affection exists. For Gurnall and many in the Puritan tradition, such withdrawal serves as a sanctifying trial. It stirs humility, deeper dependence, and honest self-examination. The believer is pressed to seek God not merely for comfort, but for God Himself, learning to walk by faith and not by sight.
A withdrawing God may also be granting the soul opportunity to wrestle, purify motives, or prepare for greater revelations. The withdrawal is not punitive, but purposeful, guiding the Christian into a more robust trust that does not lean upon fleeting feelings. Faith becomes less about sensing divine nearness and more about clinging to the promises of God’s character and covenant. Through trial and missing, trust becomes active endurance, a hope that refuses resignation.
Moreover, the rhythms of withdrawal and return echo the larger pattern of spiritual formation. Just as winter prepares the earth for spring, so seasons of divine hiding prepare the heart for fresh encounters. The steadfast soul soon learns that God’s seeming absence is never the absence of His love, but an invitation to deeper trust, maturity, and ultimately, joy.