“I sure hope no one comes up my driveway right now.”
That’s what I always think when I’m out mowing our yard, which has been often this summer here in the rainforest.
My desire to remain hidden from humanity while working in my yard is born out of compassion for any unwitting soul who might happen upon me in my hot-weather mowing attire: Aussie outback hat, sweaty tank top, baggy old jeans, and hiking shoes.
It’s not an especially good look.
It’s bad enough that my husband sees me dressed like that, but at least he did stand before God and all those witnesses and promise to love me for better or worse.
Thanks to our very long driveway, I don’t have to worry too much about imprinting a traumatic image upon the brains of other innocent passersby.
No one just passes by our house; they have to come calling on purpose. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. There’s the FedEx delivery guy who drove up while I was mowing and now thinks Honey Boo Boo’s redneck relatives have migrated to Abbeville County.
I’m not the only one who commits fashion crimes while working in the yard, though. I’m not even the worst violator.
While driving home from Greenville the other day, I observed a very large woman with a bleached-blonde mullet cruising around her kingdom on a riding mower. She had squeezed her abundant flesh into a teensy tank top and short shorts, but not without creating significant overflow issues. A humongous tattoo adorned her bicep, a cigarette dangled from her mouth, and she clutched a beverage can in one hand.
I wondered what I always wonder when I behold such things: “Does she think she’s invisible or does she just not care that everybody on this busy highway can see her?”
We have friends who were missionaries in Hungary who told me they saw men over there—even fat ones—mowing their yards wearing only Speedo swimsuits, black socks and dress shoes.
Certainly makes my mowing attire seem more palatable.
Let’s face it: we’re not invisible. We can wear what we want to, within reason, and do what we want to, within legal limits, but we need to realize we’re likely to be seen wearing it or doing it.
It’s hard to hide from people in these days of satellite photography, ubiquitous security cameras, and potential Youtube posters roaming throughout the land with smartphone cameras.
More importantly, it’s impossible to hide from God, and always has been, although that hasn’t kept us from trying.
What’s the first thing Mr. and Mrs. Adam did after they rebelliously ate the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden? They tried to hide – first from God, when He came to chat with them, and then from each other, when their lost innocence caused them to suddenly realize they were buck naked.
In various ways and to varying degrees, we’ve been trying to hide from God and each other ever since.
The obvious solution to my yard-mowing paranoia would be to simply wear clothes that look better. The answer to our deeper spiritual paranoia and shame is to embrace and trust the grace of Jesus Christ.
Hiding from God is as pointless as it is exhausting. He sees; He knows; and here’s the great news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ—He forgives, if we agree with what He says about our sins (confession) and turn from those sins to walk His way (repentance).
If you’re trying to hide from God, find a Bible, read 1 John 1:9 and come out, come out, wherever you are.
He loves you just the way you are… and too much to leave you that way.