Hiding from God

Let me tell you about a couple freaky incidents that happened to me about twenty years ago. Back in New Jersey, when the girls were little and I was in a Mothers of Preschoolers group. 

At a MOPS meeting one week, the guest speaker offered to visit with each of us individually if we’d like – to give us “a personal Word from the Lord”, or something to that effect. I was rather skeptical of the offer . . . but I was also at a place where I was trying to be open to new things, and I was certainly curious. I watched the other women who spoke to him, and they seem to have brief, positive conversations. So, why not? I decided to give it a shot.

The man was kind and friendly, but he seemed to have a bit of trouble with me. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Then he gently told me that God wanted me to stop hiding from him. I’m sure I gave him a questioning look, and he seemed to be praying or listening again. But he came back with the same “message”. Stop hiding from God.

Well, hmm. I thanked him and sat down, wondering what the heck that was about. I certainly didn’t feel like I was hiding from God in any way. I filed the comment away in the back of my mind and moved on with life.

Then about a month later, my ladies Bible study was having a social event at someone’s house. I was in the middle of an emotional struggle that morning; I don’t remember what it was about, but I had to work hard to pull myself together enough to go try to socialize with a bunch of people.

So, when the study leader tilted her head at me and asked a genuinely probing, “How are you doing these days, Gwen?” I lost it. The tears started to surface, and I pulled her into another room with me before they gushed. She was compassionate while she listened intently to me spilling my heart. Then she said, “Gwen, I really think you need to stop hiding from God.”

Gulp. What??

As I said – it was all a bit freaky. And again, I had no sense at the time that I was hiding from God. But . . . was I?

I suppose we all hide ourselves a bit more than we realize or want to admit. Certainly we hide physical things – the gray hair, the bald spot, that belly pooch. And we go to great lengths to hide other things about ourselves, too. Like, the fact that I can’t remember your name. The incompetence I feel in my new job. The doubts I have about what I learned in church growing up.

But come on -- do we really believe we can hide from God? I mean, that’s kind of crazy, right?

Yet, the propensity seems to be in our DNA. What did Adam and Eve do after chomping on their forbidden apples? They hid in the garden. An absolutely pointless exercise. But I notice that God played along with them for a bit. “Where are you?” he asked. As if he didn’t know.

He wasn't actually asking them a question, of course. However, when I read it, it doesn't seem like he's scolding or rebuking them either; what I hear is a gentle beckoning. “Come on out, children. I know where you are – I know who you are. I could come get you and drag you out into the open, naked and ashamed and exposed to my holiness. But I don’t want it that way. I want you to come to me of your own accord. I want you to trust my love enough to stop hiding. To be real with me. Nothing wonderful can happen between us until you are real with me – and real with yourself.”

I don't know if I was hiding from God twenty years ago, but I do think I’m real with God these days. As real as I am capable of being. And I’m grateful – astounded – that he actually wants a relationship with the real me. 

Seriously, all -- what a friend we have in Jesus!