Hide and Seek

Hide and Seek
We called it a game when we were children.
One would run,
the other would seek.
Tiny feet racing across wooden floors, giggling behind doors, squeezing into closets, curling into corners, certain that if we could not see the seeker, perhaps the seeker could not see us.
We called it a game.
But somewhere along the way,
the game followed us into adulthood.
Only now, the hiding is not playful.
Now the hiding comes after failure and harsh words. After the repeating mistakes and feeling that the prayer is left unanswered.
After the moment we become painfully aware
of just how far we have fallen short.
And so we do what humanity has done from the beginning… We hide.
Just as Adam and Eve hid among the trees of the garden, we retreat into shadows of our own making..
Not because God has moved away, but because shame convinces us that He should.
We slip into the dark corners of our soul, pulling our knees to our chest, whispering our accusations over ourselves before anyone else has the chance…
I’m a Failure.
I am Unworthy.
I am Not enough.
As though this condemnation were repentance.
As though this  self hatred could pay the debts of my sin..
And there in the darkness sits a child.
Curled up in the corner of a silent room.
The darkness stretches wide around him,
thick as velvet and heavy as grief.
His face is buried in his arms.
Yet,there is something strange about this child…
Though he is hidden, he is not completely dark.
From beneath his ribs, a small light glows.
Soft and golden.
It is steady.
A light that he cannot extinguish no matter how hard he tries.
Because it was never his light to begin with.
It is the presence of God within him.
The very thing convincing him he is worth seeking, while shame insists he is not.
The child believes he has hidden well.
He believes the darkness is what conceals him.
He believes he has finally found a place
where God will not come looking.
But then, just when he thought no one was coming….
A voice.
It is gentle… patient and familiar
It is not the voice of an angry judge marching toward punishment or the voice of disappointment and failure…
This is the voice of a Father.
A Father who has known every hiding place
since before the child ever chose one.
And with a tenderness that breaks the silence,
He speaks.
“Ready or not…”
A pause.
The sound of footsteps.
Slow and intentional.
“Here I come.”
Closer.
Closer still.
The child squeezes his eyes shut.
Certain this is the moment he will be exposed.
Certain this is the moment God will finally agree
with every cruel thing he has believed about himself.
But the footsteps carry no anger.
No disgust or condemnation.
Only love and pursuit and a grace that unravels ropes soaked in venomous words that he had used to bind his own mind..
Because the Father was never searching
to shame this child.
He was searching to bring him home.
And so He kneels beside the corner
where fear has made its nest.
Beside the trembling hands and the weary heart.
Beside the soul exhausted from carrying burdens he was never meant to bear.
And there the Father waits.
Not forcing or demanding or dragging the child into the light.
He sits… Simply remaining near enough
for the warmth of His presence
to be felt.
Near enough for hope to reawaken.
Near enough for the child to remember
that the darkness was never stronger than the One who entered it.
For what the child does not yet understand
is that he was never hiding from God.
Only from himself.
Because God saw him all along.
He Saw every wound and fear and failure.
Every secret place the child would try to run and hide in.
And still He came closer.
Because the gospel has never been a story
about worthy people finding God.
It is the story of a worthy God
finding unworthy people
and calling them beloved.
The story of a Shepherd
leaving the ninety-nine.
The story of a Father
running towards prodigals.
The story of Light
walking willingly into darkness.
And so the child slowly lifts his head.
The little flame within his chest
growing brighter.
Not because he has become worthy or because he has finally earned the love of the Father.
But because he realizes
he has been loved all along.
And in that moment,
is when the game ends.
The hiding and striving.
The condemning.
All of it.
For the child finally understands
what grace had been trying to say from the very beginning…
You do not have to hide from the One
who comes  looking for you.
You do not have to run from the One
who already knows where you are.
And you do not have to fear being found
when the One seeking you
is Love itself.