My youngest, Jessica, is fascinated with how things work and what she can make them do. She loves watching us use a particular object, then trying to do the same thing with it herself. She also likes to figure things out on her own.
A couple months ago, I was sitting at the computer, and Jessica was crouched on the floor nearby playing with a toy. She wasn’t really familiar with it, and she was exploring it. After whacking on it in various ways for awhile, she suddenly hit the wrong button, and the toy started playing really loud music.
Immediately, she straightened up and came running the few feet to me, wanting up in my lap. I picked her up, and she looked back at the toy, giving it a wary glance.
I reassured her that everything was okay, and she soon got down and began playing with the toy again. It wasn’t frightening anymore, because she knew what to expect.
But when she was scared, she did exactly the best thing, in terms of what would produce the most immediate, best comfort: she ran to her mommy. Her first instinct was to seek comfort from me.
Do our instincts work the same way? When we are frightened, is our first reaction to run to the arms of our heavenly Father?
Often, it isn’t. We call a friend, or we read a book about fear, or we try some other technique we learned somewhere to take our mind off our emotions. There’s nothing wrong with doing any of those things, but why are they our first reaction? Why don’t we seek God first?
I’ve caught myself many times remembering to seek God in a particular matter only after I’ve sought counsel from others. Sometimes, it feels like I simply must talk to someone else about whatever happened, and I pick up the phone. Why do I think any human being can give me better help than God can?
Sometimes, God does touch us through others. I can think of times when God has ministered to me through someone else’s words, and I’m sure you can think of times when you’ve been ministered to in this way, too. But I don’t want God to be an afterthought. I want Him to be my First thought.
I want to seek Him as instinctively as Jessica sought me when she was scared. She didn’t take time to call a friend or read a book, and it wasn’t just because she doesn’t know how to read or use the phone. It was simply because when she was scared, she wanted Mommy. I want my seeking God when I’m troubled to be equally instinctive.
You see, whether we realize it or not, we need Him as desperately as Jessica needed me that moment. Not just when we’re scared, but every moment of every day. I want seeking Him to be as natural for me as breathing is. I want it to be both my first thought and my last, and to color every thought in between.
I know you do, too.
Let’s both do something this week. Let’s bow before God and confess our utter insufficiency in and of ourselves, and His complete sufficiency. Let’s tell Him that we want Him to be our “best thought, by day or by night”—that we want to live in an attitude of seeking Him. Then, let’s ask Him so to change and order our hearts and minds that we seek Him as naturally as we seek our next breath.
Beloved, nothing could make more of a difference in our lives, or be more worthwhile. Because the incredible thing is, when we seek Him, He has promised that we will find Him. He will reveal Himself to us. I guarantee that no phone call, no book, could ever satisfy you more.
Psalm 73:28—But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.