The Ultimate Pursuit: Knowing God Beyond His Works

There’s a difference between knowing about God and truly knowing God. Many of us grew up around church language, church rhythms, and church activity—but still felt a quiet ache beneath it all. Not rebellion. Not disbelief. Just hunger. A longing for something real, close, and personal.

That hunger is holy.

Scripture tells us that not everyone who followed God knew Him in the same way. Some saw His power. One man learned His heart. And that distinction still confronts us today.

Knowing God’s Works or Knowing God’s Ways
Psalm 103:7 draws a striking contrast:
“The children of Israel knew His acts, but Moses knew His ways.”

Israel witnessed miracles—plagues, parting seas, provision from heaven. But Moses was invited closer. He didn’t just observe what God did; he learned who God was. Acts can impress you. Ways transform you.

It’s possible to attend church, witness God’s activity, sing the songs, and still remain at a distance. God is sovereign, eternal, and holy—but He is also knowable. And knowing Him requires more than casual curiosity. It requires pursuit.

The real question isn’t can God be known.
It’s: How badly do we want to know Him?

Hunger That Refuses to Look Back
History gives us vivid pictures of relentless pursuit. One such story comes from Joan of Arc—a young woman who stepped into leadership not because she sought power, but because she believed she was called.

At one point in battle, the French army stalled before a fortified wall. Everyone knew what scaling it meant: the first ones over would almost certainly die. No one moved. After two days, Joan finally said, “I will lead the men over the wall.”

When warned that no one would follow her, she replied with words that still echo:
“I won’t be looking back to see.”

That posture captures the heart of spiritual pursuit. Not reckless ambition—but resolute devotion. Not waiting for consensus—but responding to conviction. There comes a moment when knowing God means moving forward without checking who approves.

True devotion to God always costs more than mere religiosity—but it also gives infinitely more.

Seeking God’s Face, Not Just His Hand
One of the great dangers in our spiritual lives is confusing intimacy with transaction. Scripture repeatedly urges us to seek God’s face, not merely His hand.

When we seek someone’s hand, we’re focused on what they can give us.
When we seek someone’s face, we’re after intimacy, presence, and familiarity.

The psalmist prays, “I have sought Your face with all my heart.” That kind of pursuit isn’t driven by emotion or need—it’s driven by love. The question becomes uncomfortable but necessary: Why am I seeking God?

Is it relief? Answers? Blessing?
Or is it simply because He is God?

At some point, mature faith learns to pray with an answer already settled: “Yes, Lord.” Before direction is given. Before the cost is known. Obedience, after all, is better than sacrifice—and partial obedience is still disobedience.

A Pure Heart Can See God
Jesus said the pure in heart will see God—not because they’re perfect, but because they’re honest. The problem with purity isn’t effort; it’s awareness. We don’t fully know our own hearts unless the Spirit reveals them.

Life has a way of helping with that.

When we’re “bumped” by pressure, disappointment, or offense, what spills out reveals what was already inside. Circumstances don’t create our responses—they expose them. That’s why Scripture calls us to integrity before intimacy. God doesn’t hide from us—but sin dulls our ability to hear Him.

Still, God makes a promise: “You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.” He is not distant from the hungry. In fact, Scripture says He searches the earth looking for hearts fully His.

What Are You Burning For?
At nineteen years old, Joan of Arc was given one last chance to recant her beliefs as she faced execution. She refused. Her final words cut to the core of every human life: One life is all we have—and to live without belief is more terrible than dying.

That question lingers long after history fades:
What do you burn for?
Who do you serve?

Knowing God isn’t about intensity—it’s about surrender. Not perfection—but pursuit. The ultimate tragedy isn’t that following God costs us something. It’s that so many live for so little.May we be a people who don’t just admire God’s works—but know His ways. And when He calls us forward, may we step without looking back.