The only thing cooler than
playing hide-and-seek as a kid, was playing sardines—instead of one person
searching for everyone, everyone searched together for one person. I much preferred searching together—it made
the whole experience so much more fun. I
have so many fond memories of cool evenings out with cousins or friends looking
for that one person who was hiding. The
best part for me? When you find the
person hiding, you don’t say anything—you
just quietly huddle up right next to them and anyone else who may have already
found them and you hide together. You
get the thrill of discovery and you let everyone else experience the thrill of
discovery as well.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like
we’re all playing sardines with God, where He is, of course, the one
hiding. I know it may seem like a
stretch, but hear me out. First of all,
I have to acknowledge that some people aren’t playing the game—they don’t
expect to find God because they don’t believe He exists. Fair enough.
But for the rest of us—we’re all searching for Him and whether we
realize it or not, we’re all in the search together. The rules of the game don’t dictate that we
don’t say anything when we find Him, but let’s face it, it doesn’t typically
work out well if we do. If I say I’ve
found God, you’re likely to have one of three reactions: 1) you think I’m crazy
because you don’t believe He exists, 2) you think I’m wrong because you believe
in a different concept of Him, or 3) you don’t want to hear about it unless it somehow
helps you find God. And I guess that’s the point I’m coming
to. It’s not that we can’t help each
other find God, it’s just that it’s such a personal journey and all the
shouting ‘Hey guys, I think I found Him’ is not likely to be useful. It’s still dark, you still can’t see Him and
each person ultimately has to find their own way.
So I won’t tell you that I found
Him. Or that when I did, I huddled up
right next to Him. Or that I’m trying
really hard to stay put, stay quiet and not yell out. To those of you who found Him before me, thanks
for still being huddled up here with Him, and thanks for letting me find my way
here on my own. To everyone else—whether
you’re actively seeking or not—I’ll be here . . . quietly hoping that you find
us.
