What are you Looking For?

Have you ever had a season where it felt like everywhere you looked there was another reason to be discouraged? Maybe it was one difficult conversation after another. Another heartbreaking story on the news. Another disappointment. Another unanswered prayer. Another relationship that didn't turn out the way you hoped. Before you knew it, it felt like your heart had quietly started expecting the worst. I've been there.

There have been seasons when I found myself asking questions I didn't always want to admit out loud. God, where are You? Why does it seem like the people who are trying so hard keep getting knocked down? Why is there so much pain? If I'm honest, there have even been moments when I allowed my circumstances to shape my view of God's character instead of allowing God's character to shape how I viewed my circumstances. I don't think I'm alone in that. When life hurts long enough, it's easy to begin believing disappointment is simply who God is. We may never say those words out loud, but sometimes our hearts begin to believe them. We start looking at every hardship as evidence that God has forgotten us, isn't listening, or somehow enjoys watching us struggle.

The truth is, there is an enemy who would love nothing more than for us to believe exactly that. If he can convince us that God isn't good, then eventually we'll stop looking for His goodness altogether. That's why one of the greatest shifts in my own faith wasn't when my circumstances changed—it was when I became intentional about searching for God's character instead of allowing the world to define it for me.

My life didn't suddenly become easier. I still experienced loss. I still walked through broken relationships, unanswered prayers, disappointment, and seasons where I couldn't understand what God was doing. The difference wasn't that life became easier. The difference was that I began looking for God differently. Instead of asking, "Where are You?" I began asking, "Lord, show me who You are."

The more I searched Scripture—not looking for verses to support my frustration, but genuinely searching for the heart of God—the more I discovered a completely different picture. I found a Father who pursues the broken, a Savior who sits with the hurting, a Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. I found a God who is patient when I am impatient, faithful when I am uncertain, compassionate when I am weak, merciful when I fail, and unwavering in His love even when I struggle to believe it. His character never changed. My perspective did.

As my perspective changed, I started noticing something else. What I looked for became what I noticed. When my attention was fixed on fear, I found reasons to be afraid. When I focused on disappointment, every setback seemed to confirm that life would always be difficult. When I expected people to let me down, I noticed every failure while overlooking countless acts of kindness, generosity, and grace. Our hearts have a way of collecting evidence for whatever they already believe.

That doesn't mean the pain isn't real. It doesn't mean we ignore suffering or pretend evil doesn't exist. Jesus certainly didn't. He stepped into brokenness with compassion, wept with those who were grieving, and carried the weight of a fallen world to the cross. Faith has never been about pretending life is easy. Faith is choosing what will shape your heart while living in a world that often feels broken.

I've realized that what fills our hearts eventually spills into every room we enter. If my heart is filled with bitterness, bitterness is what I'll bring to my family, my friendships, my workplace, and even my relationship with God. If my heart is filled with fear, fear will influence my decisions and the way I see other people. If my heart is filled with judgment, I'll begin measuring everyone else's failures while forgetting how much grace God has extended to me.

But when my heart is filled with the love of Christ, something beautiful happens. I begin offering patience instead of frustration, grace instead of criticism, hope instead of despair, and compassion instead of condemnation. The atmosphere around me begins to change because the atmosphere within me has changed. I can't control every situation I walk into, but I can choose what I carry into it.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that this world doesn't need more people proving they're right. It needs more people reflecting the heart of Jesus. Love has a way of changing every room it enters. Not because love ignores truth, but because truth without love rarely changes a heart. Jesus never compromised truth, yet people who were far from perfect were drawn to Him. They experienced His compassion before they experienced His correction. They encountered His love before they experienced transformation.

I often wonder how different our homes, our churches, our workplaces, and even our communities would look if every morning we prayed a simple prayer: "Lord, help me see people the way You see them. Help me love the way You have loved me." Imagine if that became our focus instead of trying to win every argument, defend every opinion, or point out every flaw. Imagine if we became known more for our kindness than our criticism, more for our peace than our opinions, and more for our compassion than our complaints.

The world is already filled with bitterness, jealousy, greed, pride, division, and fear. We don't have to look very hard to find those things. But the Kingdom of God offers something entirely different. It offers hope where there is despair, peace where there is anxiety, grace where there is shame, mercy where there is guilt, and a love that never fails.

So today, before you walk into your next meeting, your home, your church, or your next conversation, ask yourself one simple question: What am I bringing into this room? We may not have control over everything that happens around us, but through Christ we do have a choice about what lives within us. My prayer this week is that we become people who spend so much time looking for the heart of God that His love naturally becomes what the world experiences when it encounters us. Because perhaps the greatest testimony we can offer isn't that we've lived a life without pain, but that in the middle of it we continue reflecting the love of a God who has never stopped being good.