Hiding From God

There was a season in my early twenties when I kept God at a distance.

Not completely.

I still went to church.

I still attended Bible studies and youth activities.

I still opened my Bible from time to time.

But deep down, I was holding God at arm’s length because I was afraid of rejection.

Afraid that if He truly saw the mess in my heart and the mistakes in my life, He would want nothing to do with me.

Looking back now, I can clearly see the lie I had believed.

And it’s one of Satan’s oldest strategies.

First, he tempts us to question God’s goodness.

Then, after we stumble into sin, he convinces us that God no longer wants us near Him.

Hiding From the One We Need Most

We see this pattern all the way back in the Garden of Eden.

The serpent deceived Eve into doubting God’s heart. He twisted God’s command and made her question whether God was really good.

Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit.

And then what did they do?

They hid.

Why?

Because suddenly shame entered the story.

Before sin, they had walked in close fellowship with God. But now fear told them their relationship with Him had changed.

They assumed distance was the only option.

What they didn’t realize was that even then, God was already setting redemption into motion.

Because as destructive as sin is, isolation from God is even more devastating.

When we run from the very One who can heal and restore us, our wounds only deepen.

The Lie That We Have to Clean Ourselves Up First

For years, I believed I needed to fix myself before I could truly come back to God.

Maybe you’ve believed that too.

Once I get my life together…

Once I stop struggling…

Once I become “good enough”…

Then maybe God will accept me again.

But the truth is, we cannot heal ourselves apart from Him.

We were never meant to carry the weight of our own redemption.

And nowhere is that more beautifully illustrated than in the story of the prodigal son in Gospel of Luke chapter 15.

The Son Who Came Home Ashamed

Jesus tells the story of a son who demands his inheritance early, leaves home, and wastes everything on reckless living.

Eventually, a famine hits.

His money disappears.

His friends vanish.

And he finds himself feeding pigs—so desperate he envies the food they’re eating.

That’s rock bottom.

Broken and ashamed, the son decides to go home. Not because he expects restoration, but because he hopes maybe his father will let him live as a servant.

As I read his words years ago, I saw myself in them:

“Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and am no longer worthy to be called your son…”
— Luke 15:18–19

That was exactly how I felt in my early twenties.

I longed to restore my relationship with God, but I didn’t know if He would still want me as His daughter after all the mistakes I had made.

I hoped maybe He would tolerate me from a distance.

But I never imagined what came next.

The Father Who Ran

Jesus says:

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son…”
— Luke 15:20

The father didn’t wait coldly on the porch.

He ran.

Before the son could clean himself up.

Before he could prove anything.

Before he could earn restoration.

The father met him exactly as he was.

And that is exactly what God did for me.

He met me in my shame.

In my guilt.

In my fear.

And instead of rejection, I found mercy.

Instead of distance, I found embrace.

Instead of condemnation, I found grace.

The Robe, the Ring, and the Restoration

The son begins rehearsing his apology:

“I am no longer worthy…”

But before he can finish, the father interrupts him with restoration.

He calls for the best robe.

A ring.

Sandals.

A celebration.

The son came home expecting punishment.

Instead, he received belonging.

That part still moves me deeply.

Because I remember praying over and over, apologizing to God for my failures and believing I was no longer worthy to stand in His presence.

But God was never asking me to earn my way back.

He covered me with forgiveness.

He replaced my shame with grace.

He reminded me that my identity was not rooted in my failures, but in the fact that I belonged to Him.

This Is Your Story Too

Jesus ends the story with these words:

“For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
— Luke 15:24

That is the heart of God.

He is not waiting to reject the repentant.

He is waiting to restore them.

Maybe you’ve been keeping your distance from God too.

Maybe shame has convinced you that you’ve wandered too far.

Maybe you believe God could never fully want someone with your past.

But that is not the Gospel.

The Gospel is this:

Our Father still runs toward prodigals.

He still welcomes the broken.

He still restores the ashamed.

And no matter how long you’ve been gone, His arms are still open wide.