Ask, Seek, Knock: The Love That Still Comes for Us

Sin is a very serious matter, but not just because it breaks rules. That’s not the heart of it. At its core, sin is a failure of love. We are created to love God and love our neighbor. And love doesn’t mean warm feelings. It means willing the good of the other and acting on it, even when it costs us.

Sin disorders that love. It means loving ourselves too much and others too little. That rupture breaks our relationships, first with God, then with others, and even with the world around us. We see it in Adam. We see it in ourselves.

But even when we turned our backs on God, He did not turn His back on us.

From the beginning, we see glimpses of His mercy. In Genesis, God was willing to spare Sodom for the sake of even a few righteous. To be righteous is to be rightly ordered in love, to repent, to turn back toward God. But here’s the truth: we couldn’t fix this on our own. The damage was too deep. As Saint Paul says, we were “dead in our transgressions.” Not sick. Not struggling. Dead. And the dead cannot raise themselves.

That’s why Christ came.

Where Adam hid in shame, Christ approached in mercy. Where sin fractured our relationship with God, Christ came to restore it. Jesus, the Son of God, entered into our death to bring us life. He offered Himself, not because He needed anything, but because we did. He reconciled us to the Father. He didn’t just save us; He made us part of God’s family.

That’s why He teaches us to pray “Our Father.” With those two words, Jesus invites us into His own relationship with God, one of intimacy, trust, and surrender. Prayer is not a technique. It is communion. It is placing our hope not in what we want, but in who He is.

In the Gospel according to Saint Luke, Jesus tells a parable about a man who knocks on his neighbor’s door at midnight. He gets what he asks, not because of friendship, but because he keeps knocking. But God is not a reluctant neighbor. He is a loving Father. If even we, who are flawed, know how to give good gifts, how much more will our heavenly Father give?

And what does He give? Not just comfort, provision, or protection, but the Holy Spirit Himself. Not just help from God, but God dwelling within us. The Spirit conforms our hearts to Christ, renews our minds, strengthens our will, and makes us holy from the inside out.

That’s the reason for our hope.

So ask. Seek. Knock.

If there’s some place in your life where you’ve given up praying, where you’ve stopped hoping, go back to that door. Knock again.

Your Father is listening.

Where in my life have I stopped asking, seeking, or knocking—because I believed the situation was too broken, or that I had to fix it on my own?