Chapter 1: Following Hard After God

The spiritual life begins not with us, but with God. Long before we ever reach out to Him, He has already been reaching out to us. Jesus said, "No one can come to Me unless the Father draws him." That means even our desire to seek God is planted in us by God Himself. This removes all pride—we can't take credit for the pursuit. It's all His initiative, but we must respond.

So while God upholds us with His hand, we must still pursue Him. The Scriptures describe this beautifully: "As the deer longs for water, so my soul longs for You, O God." That's the soul awakened by divine thirst.

But over time, even the doctrine of salvation by faith—which should lead to a deeper relationship—has been diluted. It's been reduced to a transaction, a one-time decision. You "accept Christ," check the box, and move on, rarely bothered by a deeper hunger for God Himself. Christianity becomes more about checking doctrinal boxes than actually knowing the One we claim to follow.

In doing so, we forget that God is a Person. And like any person, He can be known, not just talked about. We were made in His image, which means we're capable of relating to Him. And when we're spiritually reborn, something in us leaps to life. Our whole being begins to recognize its true home—in Him. That recognition is just the beginning.

To have found God and still pursue Him may seem like a paradox. But it's a holy one. The saints of the past knew this well. Their lives were marked by a relentless desire to know more of God—not just facts about Him, but the deep experience of His presence. Moses knew God, yet still cried out, "Show me Your glory!" David poured out psalms of longing and love. Paul gave up everything to "know Christ" more fully.

The hymn writers, too, understood this holy hunger: "We taste Thee, O Thou Living Bread, and long to feast upon Thee still." But in our time, that desire is rare. We've been taught that once we're "saved," there's nothing more to seek. But the result is lifeless religion and shallow spirituality.

Still, some will not be satisfied with that. They feel the ache. They crave more. They don't want secondhand faith—they want to see God for themselves. And to such souls, I say: pursue Him.

Our age is full of distractions. Religious activity abounds—programs, promotions, platforms. But these do not satisfy the heart. The deeper hunger is for God Himself. And that hunger is only met in simplicity: not in effort to impress, but in a childlike turning toward Him.

If we truly want Him, we must put aside everything else—not God and something, but God only. The word "and" is our undoing. It keeps us distracted, split-hearted, and restless. We add God to our lives instead of centering our lives on Him.

A wise teacher once said: "Lift your heart to God with a simple stirring of love. Want Him only, and nothing else." That is the work that pleases God most.

When the tribes of Israel were given their inheritance, the tribe of Levi received no land. God simply said, "I am your portion." He Himself was their reward. And so it is with us. When we choose God above all, He becomes all we need.

The person who has God for his treasure may lack many earthly things, but he has lost nothing. Even if his possessions are stripped away, he is not impoverished. For in God, he has all things in one—and he has them purely, securely, and forever.

This is the path. This is the invitation. If you feel that stirring within—respond. If you've tasted His goodness and long for more, don't ignore it. Lean into it. Ask for more hunger, more thirst, more desire. Pray, as I do:

O God, I've tasted Your sweetness, and it has both satisfied me and awakened a deeper craving. I want to want You more. Kindle in me a holy fire that does not go out. Call to my soul, and give me the grace to answer. Lead me up from this foggy valley to where You dwell. In Jesus' name, Amen.