Pursuit

When I was younger, out of all the necessary kid things I instinctly knew I had to do, one stood out from the rest: I absolutely had to find a hiding place. My house wasn't very accommodating when it came to secrecy, but as an eight year old, I needed a spot to go and disappear for a while. Why? I'm not really sure. Perhaps the thrill of being invisible was the draw. Or maybe I just needed somewhere to go when Mom brought out the "I want you to do something that, if left up to your own volition, you would have no desire to do" tone. Either way, after days (hours) of searching, I found it. If I squeezed myself just right between the side table and the couch in the far end of the nice living room we never used, then I was unfindable.

What is it about hiding that's so appealing? Why did it delight me to sneak back to my spot (eventually stocked with my favorite stuffed animals and books) throughout the day for a few precious minutes at a time? Why did Adam and Eve hide in the Garden after the Fall? Why do people walk around today, living behind masks, with their best and fakest faces forward?

I've always thought of myself as a hider. I often play hide and seek with the people in my life. Fulghum put it best: "Hide and seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found." It takes a lot of courage to step out of hiding, to take off the mask, to give up the act, to be found. Courage that I have yet to possess. And that's probably why God has decided to test me in this very area.

I thought for a time (much like I assume Adam and Eve did) that the sin that initially alienated me from God created an immovable block between us. Somehow, I was convinced that because I was responsible for the distance I felt from God, it was my job to fix it. But the more I tried, the more imperfect I proved myself to be. My mistakes piled up. The block not only remained, but grew wider as I began to hide from God, ashamed that I kept failing, guilty that my sin remained on my shoulders. Finally, I got so frustrated. Why can't I just turn back to God? Why can't I get over this? Why can't I improve and do better?

Then it hit me: This isn't about what I can do. Somewhere in me, I was convinced that Jesus did His work on the cross, and now it's my job to finish my sanctification. But honestly, isn't the inability for broken people to fix themselves at the heart of the Gospel? Isn't that why Jesus came in the first place and why the Holy Spirit is in us now, changing us each day? For, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." I'm starting to think maybe God's forgiveness doesn't depend on prerequisites. I don't have to wait around, get my act together, and THEN come to God. I don't have to hide, because He already knows the sinful state I find myself in, and even there, He pursues me, never willing to give up seeking me.

Jesus didn't say, "Come to me, all you who are able-bodied and perfect, and I will give you more work to do. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am tyrannical and demanding in heart, and you will find guilt for your souls. For my yoke is really heavy and my burden cannot be handled by weak, pathetic Christians who sin all the time." No! He knows I'm weary, weak, and burdened. That's not a surprise. So why not come to Him, honestly, in that state, and seek his strength? It might just be worth trying.

Meanwhile, I'm finding God refuses to just simply teach me to trust Him with the messy side of me. He wants me to trust others, persisting on working in me to change the old, "run away and hide" mentality. And I'm honestly finding my old hiding spots less of a comfort, getting restless behind the walls I've built. I want to be sought. And perhaps, I'm ready to be found.