Life gets hectic. Between juggling schedules, family, and everything in between, I sometimes wonder why my pursuit of God feels quieter in certain seasons. You know the feeling—when you're still showing up but it feels like something’s missing? I’ve been sitting with this lately while reading And I Will Be Found by You. It’s one of those books that digs deep, and in Chapter 10, the author describes unrelenting love as the fuel for our pursuit of God: “On the highest level, seeking God is an action born of love.”
That hit me hard. We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). But here’s the part that really got me: His love isn’t just where it starts—it’s what keeps it going. It stirs something inside us, creating this beautiful cycle. The more we pursue Him, the more we fall in love with Him. And the more we fall in love with Him, the deeper our pursuit becomes. It’s this ongoing action, a love that keeps drawing us closer.
Yet, even knowing this, some days, I sit down with my Bible, ready to connect with God, and five minutes later, I’m deep-cleaning the fridge or scrolling Instagram. Real talk: life gets loud, and my spirit checks out. It’s not like I’m not pursuing God—I’m reading, praying, trying—but sometimes, it feels like I’m just going through the motions. And then I realize... intimacy with God has quietly taken a back seat to life’s chaos.
It’s like I’m standing in a quiet room, with the sun streaming through an open window, and there’s a table with a chair waiting for me, the Bible resting on its surface, pages open, waiting for me to sit and engage. Yet, though the invitation is always there, sometimes my mind is elsewhere, distracted by the view outside. And while I may still enter the room, sometimes I stand at the window, glancing in His direction without fully sitting down to soak in His presence. I’m there but not fully engaged—life's noise just beyond that window can pull me away.
But here’s what I know to be true: He is always faithful, no matter what. He doesn’t "check out" on us. Even in the quiet, He is there. The quiet is not absence, and though life may feel noisy, God is still with us, waiting for us to keep showing up. I saw this so clearly after a recent visit with my mom. Between the late-night talks, errands, and catching up, my mind was buzzing with everything but God. I hadn’t stopped pursuing Him—His Word was open, prayers whispered—but something felt off. Have you ever been there? Connected but muted, like your pursuit has gone on autopilot?
As I read And I Will Be Found by You, one phrase gripped me: "'To seek and know Christ is the singular obsession of His bride'—stopped me cold. Like the bride in Solomon 3:1-4, searching for Him with relentless love, our pursuit of God should never fade. Can I just accept the distance I feel in quieter times? No way. To accept His absence? Impossible. Non-negotiable.
Wow. That’ll preach!
Here’s the truth: whether life is loud or the quiet feels like silence, He’s there. Every moment, every day, He’s waiting for us. But it’s on us to show up. Daily. To invite Him into the room and let Him shift the atmosphere. That’s the commitment. That’s the love.
Let your heart cry out, like it says in Matthew 22:37, to love Him with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.
So here’s my prayer: Father, in the quiet moments or when You speak loud, I want to continually position my heart and life toward You. Let my focus, my to-do list, my everything, be directed toward You. I don’t want to sideline You, but give You center stage. Father, whether it’s noisy or still, I want my heart to always point to You. Take center stage in my life. Be the One who walks in and changes everything.
The only requirement is this: It requires that we show up. Daily. We must make ourselves present to Him because He always shows up for us. It’s an action, a commitment, born out of love. We need to keep showing up—whether He’s speaking loudly or quietly. We need to keep showing up. It's out daily invitation by the One who loves us most.
And I hope you will, too.
Continually showing up,
Tracee