‘Where Are You’?

You’ve heard the story, probably from your earliest days of Sunday School. Adam and Eve, living in the world’s most perfect surroundings, with only one rule to govern their joyous existence. Who could ask for anything more?

And they still blew it. They fell to temptation, they ate of the tree, they sinned against God’s perfect plan for their lives.
Suddenly they realized they were naked, and were embarrassed. They hid themselves, then sewed together fix leaves to clothe themselves and cover up their shame. And from their place of hiding, they heard the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day. He called out to them, asking simply, “Where are you?”
That whole scene has always fascinated me. I get a mental picture of a Tarzan-and-Jane world, except there was a perfect, unbroken fellowship with God that is hard to even imagine in our fallen world. Into that stressless environment of freedom and joy comes the tempter to throw a little discontent into their lives. Before you know it, there’s sin, there’s shame, there’s hiding from God.
Then there’s that question: “Where are you?”
It is important to realize that when the Lord asks His people a question, it’s not because He needs more information. He knew where they were. He was just checking to see if they did. They thought they could hide from Him, but in fact, they were hiding from themselves. And so He broke the garden silence with that simple, yet profound question of penetrating self-examination.
I believe He still asks that question today to all of us who now live in this less than perfect world. And many of us are still hiding–from sin, from shame, from God, from ourselves. So, how do youanswer that? Where are you, in your relationship with Him? God knows. Do you?
I hope you’ll come out of your hiding place this week so you can be “found” by God. He loves you–anyway–and He’s looking for you (even if He already knows where you are), with a desire to bless you more than you could imagine.
I look forward to seeing this Sunday.
–Pastor Ken
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