As children, we instinctively choose to hide when we’ve done something wrong. One summer when I was 6, I was playing outside with my siblings and friends, and we got into some mischief. As soon as I realized we were in trouble, I dashed into the house and ran upstairs into my younger sister’s bedroom closet. I closed the door, turned off the light, and sat panting with fear—believing that if I could stay hidden, I’d never have to admit my wrongdoings or receive punishment.
.webp "Illustration by Jeff Gregory")
Illustration by Jeff Gregory
As I grew older, I adopted a different strategy for dealing with my sin: spiritual perfectionism. I embraced the belief that if I could simply avoid sinning, I would never have to face my brokenness or own my wrongdoing. It became just another way to hide, to avoid shame.
Spiritual perfectionism allows us to have the appearance of a healthy soul, but it masks the fact we’re suffocating under the weight of our sins, failures, and brokenness. If we remain hidden behind it, we’ll view repentance primarily as a punishment for our sin instead of a willing response to the pursuing love of God. We’ll never experience the joy and relief God intended for repentance—the chance to bring our sin into the light before Him and choose a better way.
When Adam and Eve sinned in the garden of Eden, their first instinct was to hide. They could not bear to face the One who called out, “Where are you?”—the One who lovingly pursued them in their shame (Gen. 3:9). Rather than confess, they did what we so often do; they shifted the blame. Adam pointed to Eve; Eve pointed to the serpent. Anything seemed preferable to the difficult yet soul-freeing choice of repentance.
The voice of the Enemy still tempts us to believe that God is not really good—that it is better to mask our sin than to lay it willingly at our Father’s feet. This voice is compelling; it tempts us to forget who God is and who we truly are in light of His love. Knowing this, how do we choose a better way?
It might help to think of the most gracious person you know—whether a spouse, parent, close relative, or friend. My husband and I have a solid, trusting relationship, and I’ve experienced the grace of forgiveness from him countless times, so the practice of repentance—confessing my sin against him and committing to walk a different path—has become a regular part of our relationship. It has taken time and vulnerability, and sometimes we fail to offer “I forgive you” to each other as readily as we should. But I have found that after mercy is sought and granted, the joy of restored relationship is worth the slight pain of admitting wrongdoing.
If we really believe that God is who He says He is, then what do we have to fear in the practice of regular repentance? After all, we have thousands of promises of His grace and mercy. Take Psalm 103:8-10, for example:
The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
Slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.
He will not always strive with us,
Nor will He keep His anger forever.
He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
Similarly, Romans 2 reminds us that “the kindness of God leads you to repentance” (Rom. 2:4, emphasis added). The Greek term Paul uses (agó) means “to lead” or “to bring forth.” God won’t force us to repent; He won’t browbeat or coerce us to bring about the change He desires. When confronting the reality of our sin, the choice is ours: Will we be governed by our shame or by the kindness of God that beckons us to repent? Our loving God knows the act of confession brings about the true grace we need, something He waits patiently to give.
Before we can change our view on repentance, we first need to ask God to correct our view of who He is. We should pray regularly for God to show us He is a good and loving Father, “slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness” (Ps. 103:8)—not a demanding, unyielding tyrant. This takes work and time, especially if we have not experienced the love and care of a compassionate earthly father. But if we want to know God’s love and grace more deeply through the act of repentance, it is work we should willingly embrace.
The next time we’re faced with the choice to hide our sin or to bring it into the light of God, we can pause and ask, What do I know about God in this moment? We know the truth—namely, that a loving, forgiving Father who runs toward us is not too good to be true. (See Luke 15:20.) And we can show our trust in the Father’s love for us each day, every time we fail. To receive the gifts that come with repentance, we need only to take the first step—to come out from the dark closet of shame, step into the light, and embrace the lovingkindness of God.
