The chase

Ada loves nothing more than being chased. She'll begin slowly up the stairs, turn and give me a come-get-me giggle, then snap forward and begin to sloppily shimmy up the stairs. If we're in the backyard and she finds my chasing lagging, she'll slow a little; wait for me to close the gap and make the game more exciting.

I thought about this this morning as I was on hands and knees pounding down the hallway in hot pursuit: we all like being chased.

*

It makes us feel desired, important, worthy of attention. Everyone wants—needs—to feel those things. That's why we're encouraged to keep dating our spouses. That's why we like holding out to hear just how many grad schools want us and what they'll offer to get us. And maybe that's why we'll slacken in our standards a bit—to feel that fire licking at our heels.

Maybe this is why it's sometimes hard to keep up our resolve to follow what we know in our heart to be true. The Great Master of the Universe is also the Great Respecter of Agency—never pushes or pulls. He merely waits, extends his hand and says "Come follow me."

More than once the thought has run through my mind: "If I'm so important to you, come and get me." But I've learned it just doesn't work that way. Maybe that's our role as humans helping each other. Maybe we're the ones that need to make one another feel that sense of chase, that sense of being worth someone's attention. (The ironic part of it all, is that the One who watches us most closely and is the most invested in us, is the same One who wouldn't step in to corral or corner or chase. Yet the fact remains: we're the most desired, important and worthy to Him.)

*

When I extend my hand to Ada she often flashes her playful grin and spins on her heel, commencing another round of Can't Catch Me. It makes me wonder how often I do the same. How often the thrill of the chase keeps me out of the comfort of following the Prince of Peace.