I’m not happy with my physical condition. I’ve thought about it, talked it to death—it’s time to do something… again. I’ve griped about my lack of stamina, complained about my back pain, bemoaned my posture and the occasional shirt that’s tight in all the wrong places. I don’t like having to “suck it up” for photos.

The “algorithm” clearly knows what I’m up to. My social media feed is full of 60-year-old men with 30-year-old bodies. Programs flood my feed like BetterMe Men, Gravity Transformation, 28-Day Challenge, Muscle Booster, and VShred. Who thought up the term “shredded”? Isn’t that something you do to a smoked pork butt? What does that even mean? I just want to be able to touch my toes while these guys effortlessly smile through planks and push-ups.

But I do want to be a good steward of my body. It’s the temple of God, after all, and I’d like it to last me at least twenty more years. I honestly don’t care that I look good—that ship sailed a long time ago—but I don’t want my body to distract or detract from the gospel. I’ve heard plenty of obese pastors railing about “spiritual discipline.” The dissonance of that is jarring.

The truth is, I’ve been here before. In fact, I looked it up. I purchased an exercise manual online and downloaded and printed the PDF. The date? November 2, 2022. Amazing. Maybe it’s something about my caloric intake in fall—with all its fundraising banquets and appreciation luncheons—or maybe it’s just hardwired into my psyche: It’s fall. Winter’s coming. Time to make some changes. Again.

So yesterday—and today—I exercised. It’s humbling. I’ve always considered myself relatively “in shape,” with slightly better-than-average athletic skills. I’ll give you a run for your money in ping pong, pickleball, or whatever more conventional sport you want to play. So it was humbling to only be able to complete two circuits of the beginner routine instead of the assigned three.

I have no illusions. I’ve started and quit before. I like progress, but I hate pain.

And I’ve found the same to be true in my spiritual life. After nearly fifty years of following Jesus, there have been ups and downs, blessings and struggles—times of incredible clarity and spiritual power, along with dry times, failure, and the dark night of the soul.

But through it all, there’s one ingredient that only I can bring. One essential element to actually seeing progress. Wholeheartedness. Focus. Effort. Determination. Saying “Yes” to God. Actually following through.

Gaining spiritual strength and becoming more like Jesus doesn’t happen without our consent—without a yielding to the Spirit, a decision to actually follow our Rabbi, to walk in the steps of the Savior.

I want to be careful here. I came from a stream of Christianity that emphasized work, effort, striving. I know this wasn’t the intent of the churches, but the message I absorbed was: “You’re saved by grace—so now the real work begins.” Work. Strive. Discipline yourself. Pick up that cross! There was little room for resting in the finished work of Jesus or simply enjoying God’s favor and love. But that doesn’t mean we do nothing. Grace is not opposed to effort—it’s opposed to earning. Our active participation is required.

Here’s the good news: pursuing God is far better than physical training. With my body, it’s me against… me- who has a reluctant, soft, comfort-loving 58 year old container. But with God, we have an eager partner—an enthusiastic guide—a Father who wants to be found.

That’s exactly what God told His people through Jeremiah. They were exiles in Babylon—discouraged, displaced, and feeling far from home. But in that very season, God invited them to seek Him—not just for deliverance, but for relationship.

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.”
— Jeremiah 29:13–14

The promise of finding God wasn’t just about returning to the land; it was about returning to the Lord. Their wholehearted seeking in exile became the doorway to restoration. God wasn’t hiding—He was waiting to be wanted.

The same is true for us. We may not be living in Babylon, but we know what exile feels like—distance from God, distraction, fatigue, spiritual drift. And the invitation still stands: Seek Me. You’ll find Me. But you’ll only find Me if you pursue Me with your whole heart.

What if an enriching, full, intimate walk with Jesus is completely available—but we just haven’t been putting sufficient intention into it? We’ve been distracted, disjointed, divided… and then we wonder why we’re disappointed when God doesn’t “show up.”

No—God wants to be found. He’s waiting for you.

We look at the saints of old—men and women like Augustine and Teresa of Ávila, Martin Luther and Menno Simons, Corrie ten Boom and Jim Elliot—and we wonder, What did they have that we don’t?

It wasn’t that they had more of God.
It was that God had more of them.

Jesus became their focus, their pursuit, their love.

And that’s still the invitation today. Not to strive under guilt, but to seek under grace. To set aside the half-hearted distractions and pursue the One who is already pursuing us.

Because the promise of God still hold true, You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.