Scripture assures us that God is “not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
  
This raises several questions. Why doesn’t God manifest himself more plainly? Why doesn’t he speak audibly, publicly, unmistakably, like he did in Matthew 3:17 (“And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”) or John 12:28 (“Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.”)? Why doesn’t everyone get their own “Road to Damascus” moment?  
  
In short, why is God “so hard” to find? Why doesn’t he make knowing him as easy as possible?
  
What’s more, why does God deliberately conceal certain truths from select audiences? “At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes” (Matthew 11:25, see also: Luke 10:21). When asked why he frequently spoke in less-than-straightforward parables, Jesus “answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto you [the disciples] to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given” (Matthew 13:11, see also: Matthew 13:15). If God is “not willing that any should perish,” why did Jesus reveal “the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven” to some, but not to others? Why did he obscure foundational Christian doctrines behind arcane parables whose true meanings were revealed, at least initially, only to a select few?  
  
I won’t pretend to have all the answers to these sometimes troubling questions. But I can say this: we live in a culture that expects everything to be easy. But that’s not how God works. If we’re not careful, we’ll expect our relationship with God to be handed to us on a silver platter. We want God to accommodate our busy schedules; we want him to barge into our lives, even though we don’t make the time to seek him out. We want to attend flashy, emotionally-driven worship services and, for a few happy moments each Sunday morning, “experience God,” despite not pursuing him throughout the week.
  
But God very rarely reveals himself in that way. For whatever reason - mysterious though it may seem to us - the Almighty chooses to speak in a “still small voice” (1 Kings 19), which means that the masses - the roaring crowds - are unlikely to hear him. If you want to know God, you have to be willing, as David said in Psalm 63:8, to follow hard after him.
  
“But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him” (Hebrews 11:6, emphasis added).  How much thought have you given to the last part of that verse? Cultivating a deep relationship with God requires hard work on our part. Even Paul, who encountered Jesus supernaturally on the Road to Damascus, eventually had to learn to seek Christ for himself. He described his spiritual walk as a race to be won. God may have made the first move, but it was by no means a one-way relationship. Paul, like so many others in the Bible, was a diligent seeker.
  
When confronting the superstitious men of Athens, who ignorantly worshiped an unknown god, the Apostle delivered the following oration about knowing God.  
  
God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; Neither is worshipped with men’s hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us: For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.
  
Paul encouraged his audience that the omnipresent Creator was near to every man. Nevertheless, it was, by God’s design, humanity’s responsibility to “seek the Lord” — an incredible statement from the man who met God in the form of a literally blinding light.

The Bible contains many stories about hungry seekers who diligently sought God. Jacob wrestled with a mysterious stranger from heaven, refusing to let go until he had received a blessing (Genesis 32:24-32). King Solomon only received his fabled wisdom from God after offering “a thousand burnt offerings” unto the Lord (2 Chronicles 1:6-7). The psalmist “cried unto God with my voice…. In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted…. my spirit made diligent search” (Psalm 77:1-2, 6).
  
Modern Christianity has made the mistake of turning religion into a flash-in-the-pan “experience,” not a journey. A get-rich-quick scheme, not what King Solomon described as the earnest quest for truth. “If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God” (Proverbs 2:4-5).
  
Perhaps you will “get lucky” and win the spiritual lottery. What’s far more likely is that God intends for you to spend many sleepless hours toiling diligently in the field of prayer, desperate, hungry, pleading for so much as a glimpse of his face, a single word - perhaps no more than a whisper - from his infallible lips.
  
A truly committed relationship with God isn’t something you stumble your way into by accident. God, after all, “is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.”
  
About the author: Jake lives in Tucson with his wife, Lanah, and their little one.

As we look out the window here in chilly Pennsylvania, thousands of miles from our family in Tucson, autumn is in full swing and will soon give way to winter. The cold air has settled in, and the trees — once fully ablaze with color — are beginning to reveal their bare branches. All of this reminds us that God’s creation is preparing for a season of rest. Plants will go dormant, animals will settle into their winter shelters, and even we will find ourselves wanting to curl up inside by a warm fire.

Indeed, to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Isn’t it beautiful how the natural rhythms of God’s creation reflect our own God-given need for rest?

But, we must ask ourselves if our lives are honoring God’s design for rest? As nature settles into a quiet season, perhaps we should follow its example. Autumn and winter invite us to slow down, examine our schedules, and prepare our homes, families, and hearts for a different pace.

For young families especially, it’s tempting to squeeze every possible activity into the holiday months. Invitations to gatherings, school events, play dates, group outings, and family traditions pile up quickly. It’s easy to promise to load up the kids and travel to every nearby relative so everyone in the family can experience Thanksgiving or Christmas with the new baby and children. Before you know it, every weekend is booked through the end of the year.

But what about what’s most important — Christ? Have we left room for our souls to breathe? Have we planned time to rest, to listen for God’s voice, and to draw closer to Him? What would it look like to keep a few weekends open — unprogrammed and unhurried — so we can bless others, serve together as a family, or simply be the hands and feet of Jesus?

If we don’t guard space for God, we’ll lack the strength and clarity we need when kingdom opportunities arise. Traditions are wonderful, but what will transform our children most deeply is witnessing real connection with God and with one another.

Now that December has arrived, let’s shed the unnecessary pressures of a full schedule. Let’s take time each morning to pray and draw closer to God and make room for Him in our home, in our family, in our schedule and in our hearts.

What if our new tradition became this: to pray, to rest, and — as Psalms 46:10 tells us — to be still, and know that He is God.

About the authors: Tamara and Randy live in New Cumberland, PA with their two young children, Randall and Elinor.