This Week's Devo

  When God Says “I Do” Series

Week 2: When Comfort Leads to Drift

Most betrayals don’t begin with rebellion.
They begin with comfort.

That’s what makes them so difficult to recognize.

When we think of unfaithfulness—whether in marriage or in our relationship with God—we often imagine dramatic moments of defiance. Clear lines crossed. Obvious decisions made. But Scripture tells a far more unsettling story. One where hearts don’t run from God all at once… they simply begin to wander.

That was the reality of Israel in the days of Gomer.

Prosperity Without Presence

Gomer’s story unfolds during a season when Israel appeared to be thriving. Under King Jeroboam II, the nation experienced military success, economic growth, and cultural advancement. On the surface, things were good. Life was stable. Needs were met. Enemies were pushed back.

But beneath the surface, something dangerous was happening.

As Israel prospered outwardly, their inward devotion began to erode. They did not abandon God outright—they blended Him with other loves. They mixed the worship of the Lord with the worship of Baal. They gave credit for provision to the wrong source. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, their dependence on God was replaced with confidence in themselves.

This wasn’t loud rebellion.
It was quiet drift.

And drift is always easier when life feels full.

The Subtle Shape of Betrayal

In Hosea 2, God describes His people like a wife who says:

“I will go after my lovers, who give me my bread and my water, my wool and my flax…”

Israel had begun to believe that what sustained them came from elsewhere. God was no longer their first source—He had become one option among many.

That’s what makes spiritual adultery so deceptive. It doesn’t always look like rejection. Often, it looks like misplaced trust.

We do the same thing.

When life is comfortable, we begin to rely on what works.
Our schedules. Our strategies. Our resources.
Our approval. Our productivity. Our control.

None of these things are evil on their own. But when they quietly take the place of God as our source of security and satisfaction, drift begins.

We don’t wake up one day deciding to walk away from God.
We simply stop noticing how far we’ve wandered.

When God Interrupts the Drift

What’s striking in Hosea’s account is how God responds.

He doesn’t immediately confront Israel with thunder or fire. Instead, He allows their substitutes to fail. He removes the illusion of security. He lets the paths they’ve chosen grow uncomfortable.

Not to punish—but to expose.

God’s interruptions are often acts of mercy.
He disrupts what cannot satisfy so we can remember what once did.

For Israel, the comfort they chased began to crumble. The alliances failed. The prosperity faded. And suddenly, the lovers they trusted could no longer provide what they promised.

Sometimes the most loving thing God can do is allow us to feel the emptiness of what we’ve been leaning on.

A Gentle Question for the Heart

This is where the story presses close to us.

Where have you grown comfortable enough to drift?
What have you slowly begun trusting more than God?
What once came from prayer that now comes from habit, hustle, or self-reliance?

Drift doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving God. It means something else has quietly begun to matter more. And when God says “I do,” He doesn’t stop paying attention when our hearts begin to wander—He steps closer.

And the good news—the grace-filled truth—is this: God notices drift not to condemn us, but to draw us back.

Next week, we’ll look more closely at what happens when we chase what cannot keep us—and how God lovingly blocks paths that lead us away from Him. For now, let this be an invitation, not an accusation.

Pause.
Pay attention.
And listen for the gentle pull of a God who still wants your heart.