Last Saturday I had a chance to take a walk through a farm known for its deer. Quietly I walked for nearly two hours,observing all the ‘signs’ of deer around the fields, but never seeing even a hint of them. Hoof prints abounded. Well-used trails cut every which way through the tree-lined, tree-filled pastures. There was even a large scrape on one of the trails where some buck was posting a ‘Keep Out’ sign to potential competitors OR to invite curious does to visit him. But no matter how quiet, no matter how ‘down wind’ I kept myself, no matter how hard I strained to look ‘through’ the vines, branches, and grass, no brown and white of deer hide was to be seen . . . and the day was absolutely crystal clear, with light blue skies and wispy clouds floating by, as though being drawn by the Master’s hand while I watched. It was an amazing couple of hours that I wouldn’t trade for anything, yet as I walked out of the field into the yard of the home where I was staying I couldn’t help but think, “Is this how it is for you, God?”

You know we’re out there, don’t you God? You see our footprints on the way to the mall, to our jobs, to the games our children play; You see the places where we have laid down when we were tired, the places where rivals ‘fought it out’ for dominance, and the places where we go just to ‘get away from it all’. You see the evidence of our existence on this earth in the ways we consume everything in our path, often pausing only to drink up more of the resources or to ‘leave our mark’ in a more earthy fashion.

You know we’re out there, but when You come walking, when You come to meet us where we are, when You just want to watch us and enjoy the life we have been given, we run away and hide, fearing that in seeing us, You will be able to know what it is we have really been doing. We hide from your Sight, as though not being seen is license to go on doing what we want. We hide from your Sight, as though not being seen is the same as not being known. We hide from your Sight, praying that You will just go away and let us be independent and on our own, at least until the next time ‘we need to see You.’

We hide from your Sight and we blame it on the others, we wouldn’t dare blame it on You. We hide from your Sight every time we stay at home when we could be together somewhere in worship. We hide from your Sight every time we stockpile funds in the bank and toss pennies to the poor. We hide from your Sight every time we take comfort in the size and warmth of our homes, while never lifting a finger to help others rebuild what tornadoes, hurricanes, and the rains wipe away. We hide from your Sight every time You are on the trail, and You are on the trail all the time, so it has become an ongoing intimate and intense dance of deception through which You see us anyway, and which leaves us gasping for breath, worn out, found out,  nearly left for dead.