We’ve all been born with a longing for God.

A God centered void reserved in our hearts when He created us.

white wooden door with heart shape while looking the stars
Photo by Ann H on Pexels.com

That secret place He kept for Himself where our aching, our hunger, our groaning, our desires for something more calls and pulls on our heartstrings, unaware in the beginning though these longings are unable to be satisfied by the things of the world, but by a relationship with Him.

He has planted eternity (a sense of divine purpose) in the human heart (a mysterious longing which nothing under the sun can satisfy, except God)…Ecclesiastes 3:11 AMP

The longings of our secret place are gently stirred with God’s hand in His pursuit of our hearts; His wooing us to Himself.

person rising hands forming heart silhouette
Photo by Martijn Adegeest on Pexels.com

God is an intimate Father who personally knows His sons and His daughters each by name, whose voice is no stranger to His children’s ears either.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them and they follow me…
John 10:27 KJV

We hear Him;
We know Him;

We want to follow Him.

sheep in meadow
Photo by Diogo Cacito on Pexels.com

But our hearts deceive us and entice us at times to crowd the secret place with those desires and lies of the world instead.

Make no mistake; God does not share Himself with anything but Himself. He is a jealous God.  He will step aside until we give our Lord complete surrender to the secret place of our heart.

You shall not bow down to them or worship them, for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God…Deuteronomy 5:9 NIV 

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?
Jeremiah 17:9 NIV

The pleasures for a season are unable to satisfy for a lifetime.

Money and things…
The lure of our flesh…

Only God can bring us true fulfillment.

We don’t realize it but we’ve always been looking for God; just looking for God in all the wrong places when we choose the path which tempts us down the road of our destruction.

There is a path before each person that seems right,
But it ends in death.
Proverbs 14:12 NLT

We are sheep without a Shepherd when we travel the path of our choosing.

There’s a cruel world out there ready to devour us when we go it alone without God.

Sheep have no sense of direction…
Sheep are wanderers…
Sheep are followers…
Sheep are unable to defend themselves.

selective photography of white lamb on hay
Photo by Paul Seling on Pexels.com

There’s a tug of war with the world for our heartstrings, but God is relentless in His quest for the longings of our secret place.

He’s the author of our aching, our hunger, our groaning, our desires for something more and His undying love for us will go to extreme measures to seek us out.

Reckless Love
By Cory Asbury

There’s no shadow You won’t light up
Mountain You won’t climb up
Coming after me
There’s no wall You won’t kick down
Lie you won’t tear down
Coming after me…

two man hiking on snow mountain
Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

Our Shepherd will leave the ninety-nine sheep to go after the one which has strayed; not returning until His lost sheep has been found.

The journey back to the ninety-nine sheep, the Shepherd keeps that which was lost safe and close to Himself.
(Luke 15:4-7)

a man carrying a sheep
Photo by Katakam Sai Swaroop on Pexels.com

God is longing for a surrendered heart to cry out for Him….



He refreshes…
He guides…
He comforts…
He protects…

Our cup overflows in Him…
(Psalms 23)

Growing up during a Sunday morning altar call in our small Southern Baptist Church with those wooden pews and stained glass windows of home and organ quietly played as the Lord wooed our hearts to Himself for the secret place…

Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling
By Will L. Thompson

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me.
See on the portals
He’s waiting and watching
Watching for you and for me.

Come home
Come home

Ye who are weary
Come home.

That Sunday while God beckoned His children to Himself through the song playing in the back ground…

Come home…
Come home…

This thirteen year old took those steps of surrender to an old fashioned altar to make a public confession how I gave my life and heart to Jesus at church camp a few days prior.

macro shot of heart shaped cut out
Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

Being a good person or growing up my whole life in church didn’t save me from an eternity without God; but confessing my sin and asking for forgiveness and thanking Jesus for taking my place on the cross to die an unspeakable death for my guilt would, allowing me to live with Him forever.

For God so loved the world
That he gave his one and only Son,
That whoever believes in him
Shall not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 NIV

You Lord, are my Shepherd!!!

I treasure you in my aching, my hunger, my groaning, and my desires for more of you in the pull of my heartstrings.

I embrace you in the longings of the secret place.

heart drawing on a sandy beach
Photo by Ave Calvar Martinez on Pexels.com


Mother always made sure her six children attended church.

Mother didn’t drive in those days and we got to church the old fashioned way, on foot.

No matter the weather, we ducks marched single file behind mother (who pushed the youngest in a stroller) in a direction towards a stately steeple, our neighborhood lighthouse to guide the way.

A sanctuary of stained glass windows illuminated God’s love on a bright morning.

With only a piano, an organ and Brother Bob Allen leading our congregation into song and into prayer, mother and her six children took up an entire pew as we worshiped together dressed in our Sunday best.Easter with siblings and outfits

Back in the old days you entered the sanctuary wearing your Sunday best befitting a Holy God, as He is worthy of our best.

Dresses and suits were the norm and come Easter,

Mother stretched an already tight budget for lace, bonnets and patent leather shoes;Lori sibling 5

Siblings easter outfits

An Easter tradition I passed onto my children…

A tradition my children passed onto theirs…

Becoming an adult years after my siblings and I followed mother on foot to church, did I begin to understand what Sunday best meant; which had nothing to do with clothes.

While it’s still honoring to worship a Holy God in our best of dresses and suits,

Our Sunday best is a reverent remembrance when Jesus gave his eternal best on an Old Rugged Cross one Easter weekend.

Our Sunday best is never forgetting the bitter cup of the cross which Jesus agonized over in the Garden of Gethsemane, who sweat drops of blood in his sorrow, though still surrendered in prayer to His Father on our behalf,

“Not my will, but yours be done.”

Our Sunday best is standing up in defense and defiance to an angry crowd who raised their fists against our innocent Lord to be crucified.

Our Sunday best can’t hardly stand the sight of soldiers scourging and flogging our Lord’s naked back, whose vile hearts spit on him while twisting a crown of thorns on his lovely head as they mocked,

Hail, King of the Jews.”

Our Sunday best weeps and wails with arms stretched out towards a hill called Golgotha, as Jesus shoulders the weight of a sinful world on his scourged back while a man named Simon was forced to help him carry the cross which bore the criminal charges; Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.

Our Sunday best fights to drown out the anguish though futile, the pounding of nails being driven into the hands and feet of our Lord to the cross, yet hears the Son cry out to His Father in love for those who crucify Him,

Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”

Our Sunday best sees themselves on the crosses of those two criminals on either side of Jesus, justly serving sentences for their sins, yet one whose crimes would be forgiven, granting him eternity with Christ through the exchanges between these three,

One criminal rebuked to the other as he was mocking Christ,

Don’t you fear God?

We are punished justly, but this is an innocent man.”

The same criminal looked over to Jesus,

Remember me when you come into your Kingdom.

Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, you will be with me paradise.”

Our Sunday best drops to their knees as Jesus, in shear anguish, laments to His Father in brokenness, a Father who couldn’t look upon His Son while bearing our sin in these hours of darkness, His Son paying the price with His life in our place,

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

Then Jesus breathed His last…

Our Sunday best prostrates in this Holy moment when Jesus gave up His spirit, while at the same moment the earth shook and rocks split, the temple curtain rips in two from top to bottom and those guarding Jesus recognized,

Surely, this is the Son of God.”

Our Sunday best remembers the heart of Joseph from Arimathea, a rich man petitioning the body of Christ from Pilate, to wrap his Lord in linen cloth and lay in the tomb for which Joseph purchased, sealing the entrance with an impenetrable stone.

Our Sunday best rejoices because three days later…

Three glorious days later…

Just as Jesus had told his disciples…

The tomb is empty…

Jesus rose from the dead on the Third Day.

The grave couldn’t hold our Risen Savior…


(Matthew 26-28)
(Mark 14-16)
(Luke 22-24)
(John 18-20)

It should have been me, but Jesus bore the cross in my place.  Our best rejoices every day of the week including Sunday, always remembering and never withholding


That Jesus lives today in the hearts of those who repent of their sins as the thief on the cross once did, being received into eternity when Christ says to the believer,

You will be with me paradise.”