There is a subtle shift that can occur in spiritual leaders’ lives — a shift so gradual that it often goes unnoticed.

It is not marked by scandal or burnout or doctrinal error. In fact, from the outside, everything may appear healthy, and ministry continues efficiently.

Yet beneath the surface, something essential has dimmed: curiosity about God himself.

This blind spot is particularly dangerous for leaders who have walked with God for years, who have naturally accumulated knowledge and spiritual language. If they are not careful, this vulnerability begins to replace their awe and wonder with predictability and explanations.

When leaders find themselves explaining God more than seeking Him, it’s time to focus on renewing relational intimacy with the Lord.

Curiosity is not immaturity; it is the evidence of relationship. In every meaningful human relationship, curiosity fuels closeness. People ask questions and listen to learn more, moving a relationship from something transactional to something intimate.

Throughout Scripture, those who walked closely with God remained intentional about seeking Him. Moses asked to see God’s glory. David cried out to know God’s ways. The disciples continually asked questions of Jesus, demonstrating their desire to know and understand Him more.

In each case, effectiveness flowed not from what these leaders had mastered, but from their pursuit of His presence.

The drift from curiosity about God to perfunctory spiritual leadership isn’t a result of rebellion; it is the byproduct of repetition. Leaders publicly pray, teach, strategize, and organize, but sometimes they stop pressing into the Spirit during their private time.

Ministry may keep moving forward, but wonder has diminished. The irony is that ministry competence accelerates this blind spot. As leaders gain confidence in explaining Scripture, the temptation arises to rely on what is already known, making the danger not theological error but relational distance.

King David provides a powerful contrast to this drift. He wrote, “The one thing I ask of the Lord — the thing I seek most — is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, delighting in the Lord’s perfections and meditating in his Temple” (Psalm 27:4, NLT).

During his life, David was never a passive observer of God’s work. He carried immense responsibility and leadership pressure, but his highest desire remained to seek God himself. To David, leadership responsibilities didn’t outweigh relational pursuit of the Lord.

Spiritual leaders face the same tension today. The demands of ministry can easily crowd out the quiet spaces where curiosity once thrived. When this happens, expertise can replace expectancy without intentional and regular recalibration.

I once heard a sermon by David Jeremiah in which he said, “I don’t ever want to become an expert in God and stop being amazed by Him.” He then told a story that drives his current passion for remaining in awe of the Lord.

To summarize Jeremiah’s story, one evening during a small group study on Romans 8, a student raised her hand. She was looking down at her Bible and said, “I don’t understand how this works.”

Pointing to verse 11 in her Bible, the student continued, “It says that the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead lives in us. Like, actually in us. That’s … I mean, how is that even possible?”

The pastor straightened in his chair. He had a perfectly good answer ready, one that was logical and doctrinally sound and spoke to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, regeneration, and sanctification. He had preached on Romans 8 more than once and could explain each verse within it clearly, accurately, and confidently.

The moment a leader begins to think he or she 
has arrived is the moment curiosity begins to die. And when curiosity 
dies, devotion and reverence slowly follow.

But before he could begin, she continued, her voice trembling with wonder.

“I was thinking about this on the bus yesterday, and I just started crying,” the student said. “The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is in me. In me. Like, right now, while I’m worried about rent and exhausted from work and unsure about my future. Resurrection power is inside of me.”

She paused and gave a small, embarrassed smile.

“Sorry, I know that’s probably basic,” she said. “You all already know this, I’m sure. But it just hit me yesterday, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

The room went silent. A few people nodded.

When the discussion finally moved on, the pastor sat there, frozen. He had known this on an intellectual level for 20 years. He could write a 10-page paper on pneumatology.

The pastor could parse the Greek of Romans 8:11 and had even turned the resurrection power into a sermon outline with three alliterated points. Yet he couldn’t remember the last time it had undone him. When was the last time this reality had brought tears to his eyes on an ordinary Tuesday?

As the student spoke, her face had been lit with awe. She wasn’t analyzing doctrine; she was encountering it. It was reordering her understanding of reality.

The pastor realized something sobering in that moment: It is possible to explain a miracle and no longer be amazed by it. It is possible to master the language of glory and quietly lose your sense of wonder.

That night, he prayed a simple prayer: “Lord, don’t let me become an expert on You and a stranger to awe. Don’t let my ministry reduce You to talking points. Keep my heart tender. Keep my eyes wide. Let resurrection power still feel like resurrection power.”

The greatest tragedy in ministry is not ignorance of God, but familiarity without wonder.

The Warning Sign

When curiosity about God fades, leaders are comfortable speaking about God while spending less time listening to Him. Leaders may notice that sermon preparation replaces devotional reading or that theological discussions feel easier than personal prayer.

Over time, spiritual discovery becomes replaced by spiritual repetition to the point that leaders may instinctively reach for commentary and analysis before sitting quietly with Scripture and asking the Lord to reveal its meaning.

This blind spot can also appear in the loss of spiritual anticipation. Moments of worship, prayer, or Scripture reading no longer carry the same expectancy that God may reveal something new and fresh. There is no longer anticipation of conviction or the redirection of priorities. Instead, spiritual practices become familiar routines performed without true encounter, leaving discipline intact but wonder diminished.

These warning signs usually emerge from fatigue. The longer someone walks with God, the easier it is to assume that there is little left to learn. Yet Scripture consistently presents God as inexhaustible in His depth.

The issue is never about God becoming less fascinating, but about a leader abandoning the posture of a learner.

When Solomon first ascended to Israel’s throne, his posture toward God was marked by wonder and curiosity. In 1 Kings 3, when the Lord invited him to ask for anything, Solomon did not request wealth or strength. Instead, he asked for wisdom, for an understanding heart to discern the things of God. His request revealed not merely intelligence, but also dependence. Solomon knew he did not understand how to successfully live out his calling.

Early in his reign, Solomon showed awe toward God. At the dedication of the temple in 1 Kings 8, his prayer is saturated with reverence. Yet something shifted over time.

Scripture tells us that Solomon’s wisdom became legendary. Leaders traveled from distant lands to hear him speak. His wealth multiplied, and his influence expanded. Solomon wrote proverbs, composed songs, and led with administrative brilliance. In many ways, he embodied spiritual and intellectual expertise.

But as his knowledge increased, Solomon’s relational pursuit of God began to decrease. First Kings 11:4 records the tragic outcome: “His heart was not fully devoted to the Lord his God.”

Solomon’s issue was never ignorance; it was a gradual decline in his intentional and relational attentiveness to God. Solomon didn’t wake up one morning in open rebellion. As he began to tolerate idolatry and took wives in direct contradiction to God’s commands, Solomon incrementally drifted away from the Lord.

Instead of staying curious about God, Solomon stopped consulting God as he achieved success.

The moment a leader begins to think he or she has arrived is the moment curiosity begins to die. And when curiosity dies, devotion and reverence slowly follow.

The Antidote

The story is told of a factory being plagued by employee theft. Valuable things were disappearing every day.

To get to the bottom of the issue, management hired a security firm to search workers as they left at closing time. One by one, employees emptied their pockets and submitted to inspection. All willingly complied except one man.

Leaders who guard their curiosity about God preserve the core of their calling and ensure that their teaching continues to flow from encounter rather than information alone.

Each afternoon he approached the gate pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with trash. Food wrappers, cigarette butts, paper cups — nothing but garbage. The security guard, already irritated by the extra duties at the end of the day, would sigh and begin digging through the refuse, convinced something valuable had been hidden in the mess.

Day after day, he found nothing.

Finally, exasperated, the guard pulled the man aside and said sternly, “I know you’re stealing something. I search that wheelbarrow every day and never find anything worth taking, and it’s driving me crazy. If you tell me what you’re doing, I won’t report you. I just have to know.”

The man calmly replied, “I’m stealing wheelbarrows.”

The guard had been so focused on what filled the wheelbarrow that he missed what was right in front of him.

This is often how leaders lose curiosity about God. They become preoccupied with the visible contents of ministry — sermon outlines, strategic plans, measurable outcomes. They sift through the meaningless routines and assume that whatever is most urgent and most visible must be most valuable. Meanwhile, the things being quietly stolen are far more essential: curiosity and wonder.

Like the security guard, leaders inspect everything except the obvious — analyzing attendance, feedback, operation systems — but they often neglect to ask whether they are still personally captivated by the awesomeness of the Lord.

While they explain doctrine, debate theology, and prepare meeting notes, they fail to notice the wheelbarrow of intimacy and personal relationship is being rolled away.

Recovering a learner’s posture is the only way leaders can stop missing what matters most. The antidote to this blind spot is intentionally continuing to learn and discover the wonder of God, not for the purpose of teaching or preparing a sermon, but as a disciple seeking transformation.

This posture requires deliberate practices that reawaken curiosity and restore the rhythm of pursuit.

1. Create space for Scripture without an assignment. Not every moment leaders spend in the Word should be tied to sermon preparation or teaching points. Leaders must regularly read Scripture simply to know God more deeply, allowing passages to speak personally before they are taught publicly.

When Scripture is encountered in this way, it restores freshness to familiar truths.

2. Ask God questions again. Curiosity grows when leaders bring honest questions before the Lord. Honest and raw questions reopen the conversational dimension of prayer and remind the heart that spiritual formation takes place through ongoing relationship.

3. Prioritize presence over productivity. Time spent lingering in the presence of God may appear inefficient in a results-driven culture. However, this is the source of spiritual vitality.

Leaders who protect unhurried moments of worship, silence, and reflection rediscover that ministry effectiveness flows from relationship rather than mere preparation. When presence is prioritized, curiosity naturally returns.

Recovering a learner’s posture does not mean abandoning theological depth or leadership responsibility; it means remembering that no amount of experience or expertise replaces the need for continual discovery.

The most mature spiritual leaders are not those who believe they have learned everything, but those who remain deeply aware that God’s nature is endlessly rich and worthy of lifelong pursuit.

Leaders who guard their curiosity about God preserve the core of their calling and ensure that their teaching continues to flow from encounter rather than information alone.

Like David, spiritual leaders must remain anchored in a singular desire, not merely to be effective, but to dwell in God’s presence continually.

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If you find yourself in the position of having lost your wonder in the face of God, would you consider praying this prayer with me?

Father, forgive me for allowing familiarity to replace awe. Restore in me a hunger to seek You, not just speak about You. Teach me again how to listen, to wait, and to wonder. Guard my heart from the pride of thinking I already know You fully. Give me the humility of a learner and the joy of discovery in Your presence. Let my leadership flow from intimacy with You, not mere knowledge of You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Adapted from Doug Clay, Blind Spots: The Invisible Vulnerabilities Shaping Your Leadership (Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House, 2026).

This article appears in the Summer 2026 issue of Influence magazine.