Over the last 18 months, my relationship with God has felt rocky... unstable, full of more doubts and questions than answers. I found myself filling my mind with knowledge, reading His Word but missing relationship and connection with Him.
At the beginning of 2023 I knew I needed something to change. That this stagnancy had been here for far too long, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I was reminded of the countless scriptures that talk about seeking God and how He responds to the heart of the seeker.
"Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you." -James 4:8
"Ask and it shall be given to you, seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened to you." - Matthew 7:7
"Seek the Lord and live" -Amos 5:6
So I selected the word "SEEK" for my word of the year, and I implemented some changes to help me focus deeper on my relationship with the Lord... not just growing my head knowledge. I used nap times (short as they are) for intentional time with God... even if it's just reading scripture on my phone or clicking through a guided prayer time. I've tried to spend more intentional time journaling about what I read in His Word. I read books that helped deepen my understanding of what it looks like to pursue Him (and be pursued by Him) in the epic brokenness and pain of this world (highly recommend This Beautiful Truth by Sally Clarkson). With Chris's support, I've been able to go on a few all day retreats to seek the Lord and process life with Him.
A lot of my struggles with God have been rooted in pain and hardship. The same questions everyone asks, "How can a loving God allow ______?" "Does He not care?" "Does He not see?" "Could He not be more gentle?" "Is this really His best for me?"
A few weeks ago I read John's account of Lazarus's death and resurrection. (John 11:1-44). I thought I knew this story so well... and yet I had missed a little detail that reshaped this whole story for me.
Jesus had heard that Lazarus was ill, but He intentionally waited before journeying to Bethany. He chose to wait and let Lazarus die. When he finally arrived, Lazarus had been dead and buried for four days. Martha, Lazarus's sister, came out to meet Jesus. She essentially asked for an explanation... but also communicated her trust in Jesus even though she didn't understand why He had waited.
"But Mary remained seated in the house." (John 11:20)
Mary who had sat at Jesus's feet, who had paused her serving just to be with Him... Mary stayed behind bound up in grief, ignoring her Savior, nurturing her disappointment, confusion, and anger.
But in verse 28, after Martha finishes talking with Jesus, she calls her sister Mary and says in private, "the Teacher is here and is calling for you."
Jesus went after her. He didn't allow her to stay alone in her grief. He sought her out and He wanted her to come talk to Him... to address her disappointments, to get clarity.
And Mary goes. She needed to be called. But when she is called, she goes.
She weeps as she echoes Martha's sentiment, "If you had been here my brother wouldn't have died." And Jesus is deeply moved and troubled in His spirit. And He weeps.
In this whole year of seeking, I put the impetus on myself to do the seeking. After all... "seek and you will find," "draw near to God and He will draw near to you." But just like every year when I choose a word of the year that I think should define my habits and actions, I am surprised to find that after 365 days, it is God who has been behind the scenes, doing it all along.
This year I have been Mary, nurturing my grief, my questions, my doubts instead of pursuing my Savior. He is so near, and yet I'd rather put up barriers and boundaries to keep myself from getting hurt when I fail to understand His ways (that I wouldn't understand anyway.) I'd rather reach for the low-hanging fruits of comfort (which are actually not so comforting): endless scrolling, noise, fiction, shows-- than doing the hard work of seeking Him.
And yet, Jesus is the same as He's always been. He calls me, He seeks me out, just as He did for Mary. He summons me to Himself and as I meet His gaze through tear-filled eyes, I see His own eyes fill with tears at the brokenness, the pain, the death.
As Sally Clarkson so beautifully puts it in This Beautiful Truth, "We live in a fallen world still invaded, pervaded, and beloved by the Creator who comes to draw all things back to health by His own unbearable breaking."
So thankful that my Savior didn't just come to earth to sympathize with my pain, though of course He did that too. So thankful that He came to redeem it -- all of it -- through His own death and resurrection.
So thankful that my Savior pursues me even when I'm locked behind doors of grief, anger, resentment, and doubt.
So thankful that after a year of seeking, I realize He's found me.
