Seeking Him

I spend too much time pursuing my own will. That's not particularly easy to admit. I pray every day. I reflect. I write. I try to listen. I believe in Jesus Christ and long to grow closer to Him. And yet, somewhere between those quiet moments and everything else the day brings, I often lose sight of Him.

The day begins, life starts moving, and the noise takes over. There is work to accomplish, problems to solve, people who need something, plans to make, things I want, and things I think I need. There are expectations—some placed upon me by others and many more that I place upon myself. Am I doing enough? Am I accomplishing enough? What do others think of me? Am I good enough? Are the people I love doing enough? Are they going to be okay?

None of it arrives announcing itself as something dangerous. Most of it is simply life. Responsibility, ambition, love, achievement, providing for our families, wanting something better for ourselves or someone we care about—these aren't inherently bad things. They're human things. But when I allow them to become the things I seek above everything else, something begins to happen.

A fog slowly rolls in. It is subtle at first. I may not even notice it. I keep moving, accomplishing, planning, and pursuing. There can even be moments of happiness along the way. Something goes well. I achieve a goal. Someone notices. A problem gets solved. I get something I've wanted. For a moment, it feels good. And then I'm searching again.

The fog gets a little thicker. The burden becomes a little heavier. Anxiety creeps in. I begin trying harder, controlling more, worrying more, and looking toward the next thing that I believe might finally bring peace. All the while, the peace I am searching for is already beside me. Jesus is there.

Maybe the problem isn't that we aren't seeking. Maybe the problem is what we are seeking. We spend so much of our lives seeking happiness, success, approval, security, comfort, and control. We seek answers. We seek recognition. We seek assurance that everything is going to turn out the way we hope. And when those things fail to satisfy us, we seek something else.

Jesus offers another way. Seek Him. Not simply when life becomes difficult. Not only on Sunday morning. Not just during those few quiet minutes when we pray, read Scripture, or reflect before the demands of the day take over. Seek Him throughout the day—in the meeting, in the conversation, when someone disappoints us, and when we succeed. Seek Him when we're afraid, when we're sitting in traffic, answering another email, walking through the grocery store, or worrying about someone we love. Seek Him when everything is going beautifully, and especially when everything seems to be falling apart. Because He is already there.

I think sometimes I have treated my time with Christ as something I need to add to my day. Pray in the morning. Reflect. Write. Go to church. Make time for God. Those things matter immensely. They create space for us to hear Him. But perhaps Christ isn't asking to simply be another part of my life. He is asking me to bring my entire life to Him.

There is a difference. Seeking Him means allowing Him into the ordinary moments that make up most of our existence. It means asking, Jesus, where are You in this? What would You have me do? How can I love here? How can I serve here? What are You trying to teach me? It means seeking His will before my own.

That is difficult, because my own will can be loud. I want things to happen on my timeline. I want certain outcomes. I want the people I love to make certain choices. I want success. I want security. I want to know what's coming next. And when life doesn't cooperate, my instinct is often to grab tighter. Christ asks me to loosen my grip. To trust, to listen, to surrender, and to seek.

That doesn't mean our responsibilities disappear or that ambition, achievement, and dreams suddenly stop mattering. We still have work to do, families to love, commitments to honor, talents to use, and goals worth pursuing. But they take their proper place when we seek Him first. Instead of asking God to bless the path I have already chosen, perhaps I need to ask Him which path He wants me to walk. Instead of asking Him to give me what I believe will make me happy, perhaps I need to ask Him to shape my heart toward what He desires.

Instead of asking, How can I accomplish more today? maybe the better question is, How can I love more today? How can I give? How can I encourage? How can I forgive? How can I notice someone who needs to be noticed? How can I use whatever God has placed before me for His purpose rather than mine?

This won't be easy. I know that because I fail at it regularly. I can begin the morning in prayer and be consumed by the world an hour later. I can write about surrender and spend the afternoon trying to control everything. I can tell myself that Christ is enough and then find myself measuring my worth by achievement, approval, or someone else's opinion.

Perhaps you know that feeling too. But we shouldn't allow those failures to convince us to stop seeking. We simply seek Him again. And again. And again.

Maybe that is where this begins. Not with some dramatic transformation, but in the smallest moments, in the quietness of our hearts. Before responding, seek Him. Before worrying, seek Him. Before judging, seek Him. Before chasing the next accomplishment, seek Him. When the fog begins rolling in, seek Him. Pause, even for a few seconds, and remember: You are here, Jesus. Help me see You. Help me follow You. Help me seek Your will instead of my own. Then carry Him into whatever comes next.

Imagine if we began living this way. Imagine if instead of allowing the world to tell us what deserves our attention, what determines our worth, and what will finally make us happy, we began each day—and continued throughout it—seeking Christ. Maybe our circumstances wouldn't immediately change. The work would still be there. The problems would still come. People would still disappoint us. We would still experience uncertainty, failure, pain, and fear. But we wouldn't walk through any of it alone. The fog wouldn't have to determine our direction.

Because beneath the noise, beyond the anxiety, and outside all the things we spend our lives chasing, there is something infinitely greater. Someone infinitely greater. He is already with us. He has always been with us. And the joy, peace, purpose, and fulfillment we keep searching for in this world were never really going to be found there. They are found in Him.

So today, I want to try something different. I don't want to simply make time for Jesus. I want to seek Him. I want to seek Him in my work, in my relationships, in my struggles, in my successes, in my decisions, in the people I encounter, and in the smallest, most ordinary moments of my day. I want to seek His will before my own.

I will get distracted. I will undoubtedly wander back into the fog. I will try to take control again. And when I do, I pray that I remember the way back. Seek Him. Not someday. Not only when I need Him. Not only when the world becomes too heavy. Right here. Right now. And then again in the next moment, and the next.

Seek Him first.

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” — Matthew 6:33