Experiencing God's Curiosity and Compassion by Chuck DeGroatSýnishorn

Where are you, Chuck?

I’d strayed from the gathering in a neighbor’s yard into the nearby woods, and my five-year old self lacked the inner GPS navigation capacities to find my way back. I came upon a chained German shepherd and stood frozen, the voices of family and friends calling me imperceptible amidst the violent barking and a heart beating.

I recall my parents, their eyes wet with tears, happy to have me back in their arms. But my nervous system was taxed by the whole episode. I still see that dog in my nightmares. I still feel the helplessness of the moment. I was lost. And I couldn’t recover on my own.

Adam and Eve sew fig leaves, hiding in fear and shame, were set off course by a gaslighting serpent whose questions raised doubts about God and themselves. Created in goodness and designed to flourish, they’re now far from home, exposed and agonizing. Their compass is broken. Their GPS unplugged. They’re on their own now, tricked by the serpent, and trapped in dead-end coping strategies that only further the disconnection.

And then, “Where are you?” God’s voice rings out from the distance. He’s on the walk they’d ordinarily take, in the cool of the day. Where (in Hebrew) is also the first word of the book of Lamentations, a cry of heartbreak, of longing. God misses his children. He knows they are lost. And he’s gone out looking for them.

Their shame and fear tell a different story, of course. They’re expecting an angry outburst, I suspect. And perhaps you do, too. When we mess up, we might just expect a disappointed glance, an enraged tirade. It might even be the way Genesis 3 has been narrated in the past. God is really, really angry... Just wait until he gets home...You’re going to get it. But not here. Not in this moment. God’s question is kind, longing, and curious. God’s question is brimming with compassion.

And how might you answer? Where are you these days? Might there be ways in which you’ve sewn fig leaves amidst your shame? Crafted masks to cover up? Hidden away in self-protection? Perhaps, your own shame sent you spiraling, looking for a hole to crawl into? It’s so very human to respond this way.

What if God is curious and compassionate, longing to meet you right where you are? What if the Bible is true and God really does specialize in stories of lost and found. Later in Scripture, a heartbroken yet compassionate father will go running with arms wide open at the sight of his prodigal son in the distance. He’ll show up, not with angry agitation, but with sandals to remind the son of his worth, a robe to convey his belonging, and ring to remind him of his purpose.

Where are you?