Are You Seeking God’s Face — or Just His Hand?

One of the phrases we often hear in Christian spaces is: “Seek the face of God.” And if I’m honest, I understand why some people struggle with that language. It can sound abstract. Spiritual. Almost… vague.

What does it actually mean to seek God’s face?

I wonder if some of us find it difficult because we’ve only ever been taught how to seek God’s hand.

We know how to come to God with requests.
With needs.
With lists.

“God, can You do this?”
“God, can You fix that?”
“God, can You give me…?”

And there’s nothing wrong with asking. God invites us to ask. But asking was never meant to replace being.

I remember being a child, staying over at my nan’s house. I ran into her room one morning, full of excitement, and immediately launched into everything I wanted.

Before I could finish, she interrupted me. Not harshly — but firmly.

She said something along the lines of:
“Can’t you even say good morning? Can’t you first acknowledge that I’m here?”

That moment has stayed with me for years.

Because how often do we do the same with God?

We rush into His presence with urgency, noise, and need — without pausing to acknowledge Him. Without recognising that He’s already there. Without simply saying, “Good morning, Father.”

In the beginning …

When God created humanity, His desire was never transactional. In the Old Testament, God’s desire was always closeness.

God dwelt with Adam and Eve in the garden.
God walked with Abraham.
God spoke with Moses.
God sat with David.
God dined among His people.

Before miracles.
Before provision.
Before instruction.

There was presence.

But in the New Testament, God didn’t just dwell among humanity —
He became one of us.

Jesus didn’t shout instructions from heaven.
He walked the roads with people.
He sat at tables with sinners.
He ate meals with His disciples.
He rested, wept, laughed, and withdrew to quiet places to pray.

Jesus didn’t model a relationship with God that was rushed, transactional, or performative.

He modelled presence.

Before miracles, He withdrew.
Before choosing the twelve, He prayed.
Before feeding the multitudes, He gave thanks.
Before the cross, He sat in the garden and stayed.

Fasting, then, is not about impressing God.

It is about imitating Jesus — creating space to be alone with the Father, not to demand outcomes, but to remain connected.

And when Jesus taught us to pray, He didn’t start with requests.

He started with relationship:

“Our Father…”

Because the gospel is not about learning how to get more from God.

It’s about learning how to abide.

📖 John 1:14
“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

📖 John 15:4
“Abide in Me, and I in you.”

Fasting, prayer, and consecration are invitations back into that posture. They quiet the appetite of the flesh so the spirit can remember how to sit with God — not just speak at Him.

So maybe the question isn’t:
Why is fasting hard?
Or even: Why is prayer hard?

Maybe the question is: Have we only learned how to seek God when we want something?

In human relationships, we know the difference.
We know what it feels like when someone only calls when they need a favour.
We know what it feels like when connection becomes conditional.

God desires relationship — not negotiation.

And fasting creates space to relearn that relationship.
To come into God’s presence without an agenda.
To sit.
To listen.
To dwell.

Because seeking God’s face is not about getting answers.

It’s about being close enough to recognise His voice — even when He’s silent.