Chase Me

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“Mom,” he says, “Will you chase me?”

I don’t want to. Not really. There are dishes to wash and clutter to pick-up, not to mention it’s eighty degrees in my house. But the request of my three-year-old sears me. The hesitancy with which he asks, as if he fears I might reject him . . . it wins me over. So I say, “Yes,” and immediately a grin blossoms on his face, his countenance shines—and, oh, I’m seared again, right in the gut of my heart. He’s off, and the anticipation of his laughter only heightens my joy, tells me I made the right choice to enter into this pursuit.

How long will he ask me to chase him? When he’s seven, will he still ask? How about at ten? And when he’s fifteen, will it be me asking, “Let me chase you. Let me in your life. Let me laugh and hold you like you still fit on the curve of my hip.”

This chase—it strikes me as a picture of life.

“Will you chase me?” I ask my husband. Will you show me again that wanting me means coming after me, following me into the corners of my heart where cobwebs gather? Will you wrestle my discouraged soul to the ground and pin it with words of grace? I need to know I’m worth chasing. Not once upon a time, but all the time.

And he does. But most importantly, He does. The Hound of Heaven chases. Never tires, only pursues.

After romping around the house with my son, I pause to ask the Lord: Will you chase me? Will you chase this undisciplined life and place on me a mantle of your Spirit? Pursue me with your favor, because the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

And do you know what He says? “I won’t only chase you. I’ll catch you.”

The God who chases, catches. Folds his hand over my life like a door, securing me, latching me inside, away from flaming arrows. You’re worth the chase, He says. Worth the nails.

And you are, too. Do you know it? May the God of grace catch you today.

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One thought on “Chase Me

  1. This brings tears to my eyes. I can’t hold them in, yet I don,’t want a blotchy,, swollen face for church. I always regret the times that my feet have seemed too heavy to push me on. So many times I’ ‘ve felt that slow motion, feet two sizes too big feeling that the cares of the world have pushed in front of me . The fatigue of life’s stresses have kept me often from entering the pursuit.
    I wish that I had chased my little boys more. My husband more. So that they would always feel that they were WORTH pursuing.
    Because it is about how we are valued. Have I conveyed this to them? Do they know that even after so many years, my heart aches with tenderness toward them? Do they have an inkling that I love them so much that I long to race after them until I’m breathless. They are still the gems that I reach out to scoop up.

    I cry because God DOES chase me. He loves me and values me because I am His own. There is no other reason. I have nothing to bring. I’m only a muddy, jagged stone. Oh Father, I want to chase you without stumbling over all of the clutter in my life. Help me to keep my focus on you, not on your blessings. Let me catch you fully in my arms and heart.

    Like

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