“He’ll meet you there.”

My counselor said these words to me.

At the time, I was three months shy of twenty-seven and about three weeks into healing from two decades’ worth of shame. That shame stemmed from a sin I’d battled in secret since childhood, one I’d only just started to process as an adult.

My therapist and I had spent the past few sessions unraveling all the layers that came with keeping a secret like that for so long, all the lies I subconsciously believed about myself because of this particular sin. In the final minutes of our time together, at the end of another long and emotionally exhausting hour, I suddenly confessed something to her.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to give this sin up yet.”

I waited for her to give me the Good Christian response I was expecting. Something along the lines of needing to try harder or pray more. To ask God for strength to resist the temptation when it came. To avoid the temptation altogether. I figured there would be a Bible verse or two thrown in for good measure.

Instead, she said those words I still think about to this day.

“You can tell Him that. He’ll meet you there.”

It rocked my world, this idea that I could go to God in the midst of my sin and tell Him I wasn’t ready to let it go. I’d grown up hearing the phrase “come as you are,” but deep down I heard it as “come as you are if and when you really feel sorry and promise to never do it again.”

If I couldn’t promise that, then I couldn’t go to Him.

But if a father truly loves his children, the last thing he wants is for them to hide from him when they’ve done something wrong. He wants them to come to him, to be honest about what they’ve done, and to trust that his love for them isn’t going to change — even if they’re not ready to change yet.

If we believe Christ died for us while we were still sinners (Romans 5:8), we can believe He’ll sit with us in our stubbornness. He isn’t shaking His head in disgust or muttering under His breath about how we need to try harder.

He’s smiling at us with tears in His eyes, because He spent thirty-three years on this earth and knows how heartbreakingly hard it is to be human.

So go to Him in your sin. Go to Him in your brokenness. Go to Him in your humanity.

He’ll meet you there, but He isn’t going to leave you there. He loves you too much to let you settle for less than His best.

He might ask you to take an uncomfortable step, like opening up to a trusted friend or seeking support from a group like Celebrate Recovery. He might allow you to hit rock bottom and experience the consequences of your choices. He might use something completely unexpected — like He did with me — to get you to finally face yourself and see the mess you’ve been living in.

But He wants you to come. Because no matter where you are, He will meet you there.

And if you’re still hiding like I was for a very long time, just know that you have a loving Shepherd who knows where to look for His lost sheep.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4:15–16 (NIV)

A Prayer for Those Hiding from Their Father:

Abba,

You know the sin I’m struggling with, and You know I’m not ready to give it up. I want to obey You — or I want to want to obey You — but right now it feels impossible. I’ve been avoiding reading Your Word or praying to You, because I’m afraid of hearing Your voice and having to change.

But my soul is longing for You, even if I don’t feel it. I need you to remove my heart of stone and replace it with a heart of flesh. I can’t do it on my own. My flesh is weak and my spirit isn’t even willing, but I know that You are strong and that You are the one who works in me both to will and to work in ways that bring You joy.

So I’m asking You, Father, to draw near to me in my brokenness. I confess that I’ve strayed like the prodigal son, that I’m still stuck in the pigsty when there’s a feast waiting for me at home. I want to return to You, but I don’t have the strength to pull myself from the mud just yet.

Please don’t leave me in my sin and shame. Give me the power to choose the better portion even when the forbidden fruit looks more appealing. Set me free from these chains I’ve chosen for myself. Help me believe that You are always better and that Your ways are always best.

I love you, Abba. Thank you for loving me first.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

Photo by Drew Dizzy Graham on Unsplash

ABOUT OUR BLOGGER

Kati Lynn Davis grew up in Chester County. After a brief stay on the other side of Pennsylvania to earn a writing degree from the University of Pittsburgh, she returned to the area and got a job working for a local library. When she isn’t writing, Kati enjoys reading, drawing, watching movies (especially animated ones!), drinking bubble tea, hanging out with her family cat, and going for very slow runs. Kati is pretty sure she’s an Enneagram 4 but is constantly having an identity crisis over it, so thankfully she’s learning to root her sense of self in Jesus.