The Day the Hiding Started

(Genesis 3)

Do you know what it feels like to do the one thing you weren't supposed to do, and then hear someone coming?

That is where our story begins.

In the garden, everything was good. The fruit was sweet. The rivers were cool. And God walked there in the soft part of the day, when the light goes gold, just to be near the man and the woman he loved. The same God who had made the man from dirt and breathed his own life into him now walked beside him like a friend. They were not afraid of anything. Not even a little.

But a snake came, quiet and clever, and he had a question that sounded almost kind.

"Did God really say?" he hissed. "Does God really want what's best for you? Or is he keeping something good away from you?"

That was the lie underneath all the other lies: that God's heart was not warm, that God could not be trusted.

And the woman listened. And the man listened. And they took the one fruit God had asked them to leave, and they ate.

Then something happened inside them that had never happened before.

They felt ashamed.

They had been uncovered and glad and safe in the open. Now they wanted to hide their skin, so they sewed leaves together. And when they heard God walking in the garden, in that same gold and gentle hour, they did the saddest thing.

They hid.

They crouched among the trees, hearts pounding, hoping not to be found.

God called out, "Where are you?" He already knew where they were. He called because he still wanted them, even now, even hiding. The very first thing God did when everything broke was come looking for his children.

There was sadness that day. There had to be. The man blamed the woman. The woman blamed the snake. Thorns would come now, and tears, and one far-off day, a grave.

Yet before God said a single word about thorns, he turned to the snake, and he made a promise.

"One day," God said, "a child will be born. A child from this woman. The snake will strike his heel and bruise him. But that child will crush the snake's head. And the hurting will end."

On the very worst day, God planted the very first promise. A rescuer would be born from this very woman, and God never breaks his word.

And God did one more thing. He covered them. Not with the leaves they had made, but with clothes he made himself, so they would not have to stand there ashamed. God dressed his frightened children with his own hands before he sent them out of the garden.

So when you do the thing you weren't supposed to do, and you hear someone coming, and everything in you wants to hide among the trees, remember this.

The promised child came. His name is Jesus. He let the snake strike his heel on a cross. He was bruised, and it looked like the end. But he rose, and he crushed that old snake forever.

God kept his word. The rescue came.

And to this very day, he is still the God who calls into the trees, "Where are you?" He calls because he wants to find you and bring you home.