Playing hide and seek was one of my favorite childhood games. I’m not sure why since I wasn’t very good at it. Not at all. First, I struggled to find my hidden friends. Most of the time, they would make it back to home base before I could tag or find them. I wasn’t any more successful at finding a place to hide in that I was usually found before anybody else. But there was an instance in my childhood where I couldn’t be found. To beat it all, I wasn’t even playing Hide ‘N seek.
It happened at my grandparents’ house when I was around 8 years old. That evening my parents and I came in through their carport door, which was how most people entered their home. The first room was the TV room. The next one was a rather large kitchen and dining room area. Off the side of that was the living room. We didn’t go in it unless it was Christmas or the preacher and his family were over for a meal. But for some reason, I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. The light was off since nobody had been in there. The only illumination was the kitchen light shining through the doorway. The couch sat next to the door, so I was pretty much sitting in the dark by myself. Not only did the dark not bother me, but I rather enjoyed the peace and quiet of sitting there.
Soon it was interrupted when I began to hear my family’s voices grow louder from the TV room and the carport door opening and closing. My first thought was that Papaw’s cows were out again. That was a rather common occurrence. As I sat there in the dark, I listened to the commotion intensify. They were talking more and the carport door was constantly being opened and shut. At this point I wondered if the whole herd had gotten out. Then I heard footsteps going into the kitchen. Next, I heard my dad’s panicked voice: “We looked behind the hill and into the bottoms. She’s not there. I don’t know where she could be.” That’s when I realized it wasn’t cows, they were searching for: it was me. Immediately I jumped up and ran into the kitchen: “I’m here.” Pointing behind me, I added: “I’ve been sitting in the living room. You all didn’t see me go in there?”
“For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse.” Romans 1:20 (KJV).
My family couldn’t find me even though I was so close to them. I think that is the same with some people and the Lord. Even though He is always there, they fail to notice Him. I have heard people ask why God doesn’t make Himself known or why He is so invisible. My response is that He doesn’t do either and if they would really open their eyes, they would see Him. Don’t believe me? Go out on and gaze up at the stars on a clear night. Hold a baby or child in your arms. Watch a bee fly from flower to flower with pollen coated on its legs. I can’t do any of this without thinking: “Whoa! What a God!”
Are you wondering if my family was mad at me? Nope, they weren’t because they were too relieved that I was safe. That being said, my mom did ask why I went in the living room and sat in the dark by myself. I didn’t have an answer because I didn’t know why. I just did. But now I wonder if The Lord prompted me to do that so I would write about it one day. Like I said, what a God!
Brooke Cox is an author, speaker, and storyteller. She was a 2016 Selah Awards Finalist for Debut Novel. Her children’s book: “Dinosaur Eggs,” is now available. It is based on Ephesians 6: The Armor of God. Her novel “Until the Moon Rises: A Conniving Cousin Mystery” is also available. Also, she has two books out in her storytelling series: “Saucy Southern Stories.” The Amazon links for her books may be found on her website: brookecoxstories.com. Please feel free to contact her. She would love to hear from you.