Ryan's Ramblings

“Wise men still seek Him.”

It’s on mugs and bumper stickers, framed in gold at Christmastime. It’s noble. Calm. Almost decorative.

But seeking did not begin in Bethlehem. It began in a garden. After Adam and Eve stitched fig leaves together and hid among the trees, the Lord God walked in the cool of the day and called out, “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9).

That is the first seeking in Scripture. And it is not man searching for God. It is God searching for man.

By the time wise men followed a star in Matthew 2, the pattern was already ancient. From the beginning, God has been moving toward people who hide and wander, and men and women—flawed and faltering—have been seeking Him in return ever since.

So when we say, “Wise men still seek Him,” we are stepping into something far older than Christmas decor. Seeking Jesus has never been sentimental. It reaches deeper than tradition. It’s life-altering.

Consider Peter.

Tucked quietly into Mark 1:36 is a line that could summarize his whole biography: “Simon and his companions went searching for Him.”

That’s Peter in a sentence.

The seeking never stopped. He moved toward Jesus on the water — and began to sink (Matthew 14:29–30). He followed Jesus from a distance into the high priest’s courtyard—and denied Him three times (Matthew 26:58, 69–75). He ran to the tomb when he heard the stone had been rolled away (Luke 24:12). He threw himself into the sea when he recognized the risen Christ on the shore (John 21:7).

Peter was impulsive. Inconsistent. Loud. Often wrong. But he was always seeking Jesus.

And Peter is not alone.

King David carried the same pattern. Scripture tells us that God said, “I have found David… a man after My own heart.” That is a startling testimony—especially when you remember 2 Samuel 11.

That chapter tells a painful story: adultery with Bathsheba, a calculated plan that sent Uriah to his death, and a season of silence thick with guilt. David’s collapse was not private. It was national, public, devastating.

Then Nathan stood before him and told the story of a stolen lamb. And when the prophet finally said, “You are the man” (2 Samuel 12:7), David did not argue. He did not deflect. He did not run. He said, “I have sinned against the Lord” (2 Samuel 12:13).

Then came Psalms 51—not a strategy for image repair, but a prayer: “Create in me a clean heart, O God…” He fell hard. But he fell toward God.

Jeremiah preserves the promise: “You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13). Hebrews adds that God “rewards those who diligently seek Him” (Hebrews 11:6).

Scripture never says the seekers are spotless. But it shows us they keep turning their faces toward the Lord. The difference is not perfection. It is direction.

We will stumble. Some of us spectacularly. Words we wish we could take back. Decisions that ripple farther than we imagined. Seasons where we drift. The deeper question is not, “Did you fail?” It is this: when you saw it clearly—which way did you move? Toward Him? Or away?

And then Jesus says something astonishing to a Samaritan woman at a well—a woman with five husbands and a complicated past: “The Father is seeking such to worship Him” (John 4:23).

The Father is ever seeking — not waiting, not indifferent, … seeking.

Which means the conviction that won’t quite leave you alone, the quiet whisper that calls you by name, is not random. It is evidence of His pursuing love—a nudging.

Seeking is not just our movement toward Him. It is our response to His movement toward us.

Wise men still seek Him. So do fishermen who sink. So do kings who have wrecked things. So do ordinary people like you and me.

The question isn’t whether you’ve stumbled.

The question is: Who are you seeking?