Got a Secret?In Lake Wales, Florida, there is a tranquil spot called Bok Tower Gardens. When I was little, my dad would take us there for a quiet walk among the beautiful flowers as the tower soaring above us serenaded us with glorious songs of carillon bells. We always brought peanuts because the trees were home to a large number of very friendly squirrels.
In Genesis chapter three, verse eight, we read about another daddy walking with his children.
"Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day..."
Can you image the Father, Elohim, the creator of the universe, the one who breathed life into your soul, strolling down the path every evening to walk and talk with you, maybe even feed the squirrels with you? That is God's plan.
His desire is to be known by you.
Oh, to live in the garden! Maybe you could stop by the river and sit on the bank with your toes hanging in the water. Maybe you could skip a few stones with the God who created them. However, the verse continues.
"...and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden."
Oh, how I wish I could tell you that Adam and Eve were enjoying a playful game of hide-and-seek with their heavenly daddy. How I wish I could tell you that they were not crouching behind the trees experiencing for the first time a feeling of shame, embarrassment and fear. How I wish I could tell you they did not choose to go their own way, to do what was right in their own eyes, but instead followed the LORD all of the days of their lives. But that is not what happened.
The Fall
Sin
Hiding
Fear
An Attempted Cover-up
An Attempt to Shift Blame
Broken Relationships
Loneliness
Dallas Willard writes about a 2-and-a-half-year-old girl in her backyard who one day discovered the secret to making mud (which she called "warm chocolate"). Her grandmother had been reading and was facing away from the action, but after cleaning up what was to her a mess, she told little Larissa not to make any more chocolate and turned her chair around so as to be facing her granddaughter.
The little girl soon resumed her "warm chocolate" routine, with one request posed as sweetly as a 2-and-a-half-year-old can make it: "Don't look at me, Nana. Okay?" Nana (being a little co-dependent) of course agreed.
Larissa continued to manufacture warm chocolate. Three times she said, as she continued her work, "Don't look at me, Nana. Okay?"
Then Willard writes: "Thus the tender soul of a little child shows us how necessary it is to us that we be unobserved in our wrong."
Any time we choose to do wrong or to withhold doing right, we choose hiddenness as well. It may be that out of all the prayers that are ever spoken, the most common one—the quietest one; the one that we least acknowledge making—is simply this: Don't look at me, God.
It was the very first prayer spoken after the Fall. God came to walk in the garden, to be with the man and the woman, and called, "Where are you?"
"I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid," Adam answered, "so I hid." Don't look at me, God.
