My kids and I played the other day. I was elected IT, of course. They hid. I didn’t see them. Any of them. And I have four kids. I ducked my head in tunnels and under picnic tables. I peered behind park benches and around the sculpture I love of a deconstructed bicycle. We’d set boundaries, so they couldn’t be too far. We’d played at this park hundreds of times, so I felt they must be safe. Right? Still, I felt momentary panic—that shuffle in my heart.
I put my hand over my eyes like a shield, as if it would give me x-ray vision. It didn’t. I took a deep yoga breath. I even opened the door to the port-a-potty, no lie. I’d do anything at this point to find them. I caved and started calling their names. One by one they revealed themselves. One was folded behind a trashcan. Another was crammed under bushes. A third splayed flat against a corn hole board. The last had been darting from spot to spot. But that anxiety of not being able to find them, unsettled me for a while.
For the hider there’s the thrill of looking for the perfect hiding place and the pressure to find one before the IT gets to twenty. Finding a spot is exciting at first. The whole no-one-knows-where-I-am-freedom. And then, your mind wanders. And the peaceful imagining is blissful for a while. But eventually, there is that wonder—what if nobody finds me? What if they forget I was playing? Or can’t get the door behind me open? What if they think I went home? Or get distracted and move on to something else?
I’ve been playing various evolutions of Hide and Go Seek with God my whole life.
But the best times of my life are when I seek Christ. Because when I seek Him, He’s always there. He never, ever hides from me. He simply loves me, because I am seeking Him.
Are you hiding or seeking today?