Nothing Is Hidden From God
Dogs are funny creatures. Each one has a unique personality full of sweet (and often quirky) attributes. Every dog I’ve ever had has made me smile and laugh when it seems nothing else could. And the best part is, they weren’t trying. They were simply being themselves. Take, for example, their attempts to be sneaky.
Our first dog, Tessa, was a beautiful chow mix, and overall, she was very intelligent. One of her favorite games to play was Hide and Seek, but she didn’t quite understand the concept of hiding. She would lie upside down on the rug in the foyer and place her paw over her eyes. Her logic was if she couldn’t see us, we couldn’t see her. It was too adorable to burst her bubble, so Jason and I would play along, going back and forth shouting, “Where is Tessa? I don’t see her.” She considered herself the Hide and Seek queen!
Tippy, our beagle who passed away a few years back, was the most easy-going dog we’ve ever had, but I have to admit, she was not the brightest. Tippy loved to eat, and at the time, we had an automatic feeder. She would stand at the feeder and gorge herself if we didn’t make her stop, so Tippy developed a plan. She would pass by the feeder, grab a bite or two, and walk away. Only, she didn’t exactly walk away, she made a loop around the dining room table and passed by the dish again, taking another bite or two. She would continue this process, occasionally looking over to see if we noticed her pattern. We did, and eventually, we had to get rid of the feeder and go to two daily feedings. Poor Tip!
Mitchell, our shepherd mix who passed away last year, was sneaky in the same way Barnabas is, but I think Mitchell was possibly a little better at it. Despite his size, Barnabas can be very quiet, and he uses that stealth to his advantage. When he’s trying to slip something past us, he’ll act very nonchalant, but I can always tell when he’s up to something because his eyes keep darting over at me to see if I’m watching. On more than one occasion, I’ve stopped him by asking, “What are you doing?” He’d turn to me, and I’d see a pair of socks or a piece of firewood sticking out the other side of his mouth. “Drop it!” And he does, then comes over to convince me he’s still a good boy. Like I said, Mitchell was better at this, so there’s no telling what he got away with during his twelve years.
We laugh at these silly antics, but we’re guilty of doing just the same. We often live our lives thinking we’re hiding things from God, but our sneakiness is no more effective than that of my four dogs. God sees and knows it all. Every thought. Every deed. Every action. Every attitude.
When we’re living right, it’s comforting to know that God sees and hears all. It’s a blessing to know He can read my thoughts when I can’t put them into words. It’s a joy to know He knows everything about me and loves me all the same.
That being said, I think we sometimes forget that God doesn’t only see us when we’re doing the right things. He sees us all the time. When we’re goofing off on the job instead of doing the work assigned to us. When we’re watching television instead of spending time in His Word. When we act one way on Sunday and completely different during the rest of the week. When we’re flirting with that guy or looking at those pictures.
Not only does He see, He hears. He hears our complaints when we don’t like the weather or the circumstances we’re facing. He hears our criticisms of others when they don’t behave the way we think they should. He hears the gossip we share at lunch and the negativity we spread through the workplace. He hears it all.
And worst of all (or best of all, depending on how we view it), He knows it all. He knows the words we thought but didn’t say. He knows how much time we spend thinking about things that have no heavenly value. He knows how much time we waste in endless worry and anxiety.
God sees, hears, and knows. We’re not hiding anything from Him no matter what sneaky methods we use to hide our sin. It’s cute when the dogs try to be stealthy and get away with things they know they shouldn’t be doing, but it’s not so cute when we do it. We should know better. We should do better. We’re not fooling anyone with our antics, and God’s not laughing at our attempts to get one past Him. This is serious, folks.
I think we can all agree at this point we need to be honest with God. Lay it all out and allow Him to help you do what’s right so there’s nothing to hide. We can’t do it on our own, but as we discussed in the previous devotion, with God, anything is possible. In His strength, we can stop playing games and get ourselves where we need to be—in a right standing with Him. It won’t happen overnight, but it is possible to walk in step with the Lord, open and honest before Him.
Here’s the encouraging part. Though my dogs attempted to deceive me, I never loved them any less. God feels the same about us. Though we fail Him time and time again, His love for us never wavers. Though we hide things from Him, He never withdraws His love. And that, my friends, ought to make us even more willing to do right by Him. After all, how can we continue to mistreat Someone who loves us so unconditionally?