Thursday, September 14, 2017

Wanderer

 
Genesis 3:9
But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?”

The Lord knows all, but still He whispers: urgently, fervently, persistently.

"Where are you?"

These are the times I am hiding, or think I am. Covering my wretchedness with dirty leaves and cowering behind a threadbare bush like it offers any protection.

"Where are you?"

He finds me because He had me all along, and I show my muddy face and tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes. Sometimes I blame, like Adam. Sometimes I deny, like Peter. Sometimes I crumble.

And sometimes there is discipline for my wandering and my waywardness. But always there is relentless, abounding grace. Forgiveness that clothes and protects and restores me, that knocks me to my knees.

"Where are you?"

Here I am.

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