My children were thrilled, but I felt uneasy. During a vacation, we visited an aquarium where people could pet small sharks kept in a special tank. When I asked the attendant if the creatures ever snapped at fingers, she explained that the sharks had recently been fed and then given extra food. They wouldn’t bite because they weren’t hungry.

What I learned about shark petting makes sense according to a proverb: “One who is full loathes honey from the comb, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet” (Proverbs 27:7). Hunger—that sense of inner emptiness—can weaken our discernment as we make decisions. It convinces us that it’s okay to settle for anything that fills us up, even if it causes us to take a bite out of someone.

God wants more for us than a life lived at the mercy of our appetites. He wants us to be filled with Christ’s love so that everything we do flows from the peace and stability He provides. The constant awareness that we’re unconditionally loved gives us confidence. It enables us to be selective as we consider the “sweet” things in life—achievements, possessions, and relationships.

Only a relationship with Jesus gives true satisfaction. May we grasp His incredible love for us so we can be “filled to the measure [with] all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19) for our sake—and the sake of others.

“He’s going to find me,” I thought. I felt my little heart pound faster as I heard my five-year-old cousin’s footsteps around the corner. He was coming closer. Five steps away. Three. Two. “Found you!”

Hide-and-seek. Most have fond memories of playing the game as children. Yet sometimes in life the fear of being found isn’t fun but is rooted in a deep instinct to flee. People may dislike what they see.

As children of a fallen world, we’re prone to play what a friend of mine labels, “a mixed-up game of hide-and-seek” between God and us. It’s more like a game of pretending to hide—because either way, He sees all the way through to our messy thoughts and wrong choices. We know it, though we like to pretend He can’t really see.

Yet God continues to seek. “Come out,” He calls to us. “I want to see you, even your most shameful parts”—an echo of the same voice that called to the first human who hid out of fear: “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9). Such a warm invitation voiced in the form of a piercing question. “Come out of hiding, dear child, and come back into relationship with Me.”

It may seem far too risky, preposterous even. But there, within the safe confines of our Father’s care, any of us, no matter what we’ve done or failed to do, can be fully known and loved.