Encounters

How do we encounter Jesus?

It seems like a simple question, but perhaps the deeper question is this: Do we encounter Him, or does He first encounter us?

We often say that God meets us where we are, and that is profoundly true. Yet the greater question remains: Do we truly desire to invite Him into every part of our daily lives?

Even as a faithful Catholic, I often find myself longing for Him. Yet there are moments when, despite knowing He is patiently waiting to encounter me, I become distant, distracted by the endless demands and noise of everyday life. A profound encounter can seem almost out of reach, even though I know He is there, gently whispering to my heart, quietly touching every part of my life, both the joyful moments and the painful ones. Too often, I fail to recognize His presence because my attention has wandered elsewhere.

Yet God never stops pursuing us.

His plans rarely fit neatly into our schedules, but they are always perfectly ordered toward our salvation. In truth, He longs for us even more than we long for Him. I am often reminded of the parable of the prodigal son. What moves me most is not the son’s return, but the father who waited with hope-filled expectation, whose heart overflowed with joy the moment he embraced his long-lost child. Every time I reflect on that image, it breaks me to pieces and humbles me, especially when I see my own wandering heart reflected in the son.

The world constantly teaches us something very different. It tells us to rely on ourselves, to be strong enough on our own, to fight for what belongs to us, and to believe that our well-being rests solely in our own hands. It glorifies self-sufficiency as though dependence were weakness. It celebrates the survival of the strongest while dismissing mercy as frailty. Such thinking is nothing more than the ancient pride that has accompanied humanity since the fall—a subtle temptation to believe that we no longer need God.

But our Heavenly Father knows how fragile we truly are.

Sometimes I imagine Him watching His children grow through trial after trial, patiently waiting not to condemn them but hoping they will simply turn toward Him and say, “Father, please help me.”

And what loving father would not run to his child?

Would he not rush to lift him up, encourage him, strengthen him, and remind him that he is never alone?

How much more, then, will our Father in heaven, whose mercy knows no limits, come to the aid of those who call upon Him?

This is where my own heart often finds itself. My mind longs for understanding, but my heart yearns for compassion. And it is in Jesus Christ that both meet perfectly.

The Cross reveals the greatest encounter humanity has ever known.

There we see the perfect love of the Son for the Father and the perfect love of the Father for us. Jesus could have turned away, as many of us might have done. In His humanity He experienced anguish, yet He remained perfectly obedient to the Father’s will, even to death on a cross. What appeared to be the bitter end became the sweetest victory. Sin was conquered, death was defeated, and the promise of eternal life was fulfilled.

Through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection, humanity was transformed. We are no longer merely creatures fashioned by God; through Christ we are invited to become adopted sons and daughters of the Most High, heirs with Christ, and members of His Body, the Church.

The encounter with Jesus is not merely an emotional experience. It is real. It is sacramental. It is personal. It is life-giving.

When we surrender ourselves completely to Him, that encounter fills us with a joy the world cannot give and a peace the world cannot take away. It slowly transforms our hearts until they begin to resemble His own Sacred Heart.

God always has a plan.

The question is not whether He is calling us. He is.

The real question is whether we are willing to become part of that plan.

All He asks is that we lift up our hands and pray with the simplicity of a child:

“Lord… Father… Jesus… please help me. I need You in my life.”

No amount of noise in this world can silence a prayer like that. No darkness can prevent it from reaching the Heart of Christ. The One who first sought Adam in the garden, who ran to embrace the prodigal son, who called Zacchaeus from the sycamore tree, and who sought the disciples on the road to Emmaus is still seeking us today.

Perhaps we spend so much time wondering how to encounter Jesus that we forget one beautiful truth:

Long before we ever began searching for Him, He was already searching for us.

God bless you always and abundantly.