Asking, Knocking, Seeking

Some seasons of my relationship with God seem to emphasize, "Ask and you will receive."  I can recall experiences in the past when as soon as I asked for something, I got it.  It didn't happen a lot, but a few really stand out. One time, I can remember, I was driving to meet a friend and realized after turning into his neighborhood that I had no idea which house he lived in or even the street he lived on.  In those dark days before cell phones, I could not think of a way to find him.  So I prayed, "Lord, just let him walk outside as I drive past."  Almost immediately, I see my friend walking down a driveway with two bags of garbage in his hand, headed to a trash can at the curb.  Who knows why that has stuck with me so profoundly, because who really cares, right?  In the grand scheme of things, what does it matter that I find my friend's house without embarrassing myself?  But as a young teenager, the thought sank into my heart - Ask God for stuff because he will answer you! Not all seasons are like that though, are they?  Not by a long shot!  There have been plenty of other times that I have to convince myself there is even a God up there, let alone one who cares to answer the little things that concern me.  Some seasons feel a lot more like knocking or seeking. Knocking, to me, represents something that is sort of thinly veiled.  There is a barrier between you and God, but if you can just turn the handle, the barrier can be removed and you find him standing there.  If you do a little bit of knocking, the door will swing open and The Answer will be there.  It's not usually that we realize we're knocking on a door that Jesus is standing just on the other side of, but that's the way it turns out. I read this awhile back and it has been unfolding for me ever since: "All of life is arranged to find its hidden treasure: Christ. See everything as containing and perhaps hiding: HIM---Christ IS hidden." My daughter was sick last night and I ran through the whole process - Asking, Knocking, Seeking - in my search for Jesus.  Of course, what I wanted was one of those big "asking" moments like my friend stepping into the driveway the instant I roll past.  I wanted to ask God to heal her completely and see the sickness consumed and chased from her tiny body.  It didn't happen, so I started knocking on doors.  The medicine door.  Maybe she can take some medicine that will help her breathe, so she can rest.  Nope.  The Vick's door.  Vick's is like a wonder-drug in our house.  It always seems to work.  I never go to it first because I hold such great hope in it.  It's like, "Well if nothing else works there is always Vick's."  Not even the mighty Vick's could bring my little girl rest last night.  I even got so desperate as to try knocking on the "let my wife handle this one alone while I get some sleep" door.  Umm... No.  Jesus wasn't standing behind that one either. I was just about to give in to the panic that only 4 AM with a sick, screaming toddler can bring when something happened.  I found Jesus.  He was hidden in her room.  But not just in her room.  He was hidden within sacrifice and service.  I picked her up from her crib, held her close and started slowly dancing to the tune playing only in my own head.  In a minute or two, she calmed down and laid her head on my shoulder and went to sleep.  But she only stayed calm and sleeping while I stood and swayed with her.  If I tried to sit in the glider or tried to put her in the crib, her eyes would pop open and she'd get upset all over again. I think this is what seeking is like.  It's sacrificial and it requires servant hood.  It calls upon us to yield ourselves in a way that we were previously unwilling to yield.  Up to that moment, I was determined to get plenty of rest myself.  I wanted my daughter to sleep but especially because of the way her sickness was interrupting my rest.  Jesus was hiding within the willingness to let go of that and be what she needed me to be.  He was hiding within an act of service that would allow my wife to sleep while I was with the baby.  Jesus wasn't coming onto the scene as the healing, delivering, miracle-doing Savior I wanted him to be at first.  He wasn't even showing up as the merciful, compassionate, wise Counselor working with available resources to bring relief I turned to next.  He was whispering, "Get a towel.  Prepare some water.  Let's wash her tiny feet.  I want to show you how to do miracles through service.  Let me teach you how to find me in surrender and sacrifice." Of course my little sacrifice of staying awake so my daughter can sleep is not really a big deal.  On the sacrificial scale it ranks somewhere near the bottom with doing the dishes or folding the laundry - in a family, it's not much more than reasonable service.  But if it helps to teach the lesson, I'm glad to focus on it.  This issue is rich with Asking, Knocking and Seeking.  There are people celebrating and sharing their stories of triumph at the "right here-ness" of God in their lives.  There are others who are opening up a door, revealing Jesus to us in a way we might not have seen him before.  And there are articles in this issue that represent deep searching - deep sacrifice and the raw wounds of uncertainty.  I encourage you to take hold of this issue as though it were containing - perhaps even hiding - Jesus. You can reach Scott by email at scottjbane@gmail.com.