Run and Hide

I was too tired to sleep that night, staring blankly at the pillow in front of my face. The words wafted into my consciousness, “Fear God.” I pondered the words, so unexpected, so strange. Fear. My mind played with synonyms, connected words. Fear. Fright. Terror. Words that imply running and hiding.

Running and hiding? What does that have to do with fearing God? I almost dismissed the thought. But my mind would not let the topic die.

How often do we run to the least safe place? In a thunderstorm, I take shelter under a tree. In a tornado, the culvert looks safe. In terror of God, I run to hide among self-righteous rags.

But that is exactly where I should not go. There is where the full brunt of His anger falls. There is where I will never be safe.

No, the fear of God demands that I run and hide–but not just anywhere.

Fear of God drives me to run to Christ, to take refuge in Him.

It is there, enveloped by the all-powerful, righteous, and angry God, that I am safe.

Because the awful God is the only One who can save me from Himself.

I run to Him and He spreads Himself over me like a garment, absorbing the full brunt of His terrible anger.

When I am hiding in Him, His wrath finds only Himself. When I am hiding in Him, His favor is all that remains. I am forever in the eye of the storm, the Terrible God surrounding me, protecting me from Himself.

I face life’s stresses, little troubles and big. Fear God, the little voice whispers. Run and Hide, I whisper back. I must make the choice to run to Him, to hide myself in Him. He absorbs my trials.

Temptation to think, to say, to do, to be what I ought not think, say, do, or be. I want to give in to bitterness, to selfishness, to pride, to self-indulgence. Fear God, the little voice whispers. I whisper back, Run and Hide. I must run to the One who endured every temptation. I must hide myself in Him. He bears my desires.

And then I fall and deep despair fills my every thought. Why do I do this again and again? Why do I continue to sin? Why don’t I do what I know is right? Terror grips me and I want to run away, to hide.

Where shall I go? Will I hide in my work? Surely there’s enough of that to keep me hidden for months. Will I hide in my home? There’s enough cleaning to do I won’t be found for an age. Will I hide in a book? I have plenty of those, and the library has more.

Fear God, the little voice says.

And I will respond.

In fear, I will run and hide.

I will run to my terror, I will weep at His feet. “Spread Your wings over me,” I will cry in distress. And He will lift His garment, He will give me refuge in His wings. I will be safe when I hide in my Fear.