God Hides Things
When my children were young, we had a Surprise Day. We would strategically place gifts hidden throughout the house and watch their excitement hunting for the packages with their name on it.
After almost half a century of reading the Bible, one conclusion has gradually become impossible for me to ignore; God hides things. Not to deceive us. Not to keep us at a distance. But to draw us deeper.
I first noticed this in the way Scripture reveals the Messiah. The Old Testament is full of hints, patterns, symbols and promises that seem almost ordinary until the light of Christ falls upon them. Then passages read a hundred times suddenly come alive. What once appeared disconnected is seen to belong to a single, beautiful story.
It is one of the reasons I have become increasingly selective about devotional reading. I have worked through many daily devotionals over the years, but I often find myself disappointed when they become collections of anecdotes, motivational stories or personal reflections only loosely connected to the biblical text. Those things have their place, but increasingly I simply want someone to lead me straight into Scripture itself.
One devotional that has done exactly that is With All Your Mind and Heart by Seth Postell. Rather than treating each passage in isolation, Postell traces the Bible's unfolding narrative, showing how events, themes and images echo one another across the centuries. He helps readers notice what was always there, but so easily overlooked.
One example particularly stayed with me.
In his reflection for July 21, he drew attention to Peter's denial of Jesus in John 18. Peter denies his Lord three times while standing beside a charcoal fire (John 18:18). It is a painful moment that most readers remember well.
Yet after the resurrection, another charcoal fire appears.
When the disciples return from a night of fishing, Jesus is waiting for them on the shore. The only other charcoal fire mentioned in John's Gospel has been deliberately placed there (John 21:9). It quietly transports Peter back to the darkest night of his life.
Then comes another striking repetition.
Three times Jesus asks Peter, 'Do you love me?'
Three times Peter answers.
Three denials.
Three affirmations.
The failure is not ignored. It is redeemed.
That is the sort of detail I love discovering. It is not shouted from the page. It waits patiently for the attentive reader. Once seen, it becomes almost impossible to forget.
It reminds me of Proverbs 25:2:
'It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings.'
That verse reaches far beyond Bible study.
Imagine God placing mathematics, music, gravity, DNA, galaxies and beauty into creation—not to frustrate humanity, but to invite exploration. Every scientific breakthrough, every mathematical discovery, every new glimpse through a telescope or microscope may simply be another gift waiting to be unwrapped.
Perhaps this is why so many mathematicians speak of discovering mathematics rather than inventing it. The patterns were already there. The relationships already existed. Human beings did not create the Fibonacci sequence or the value of π any more than Newton created gravity. They uncovered realities that had patiently waited for someone to notice.
The same is true of music. Long before anyone carved the first crude flute or stretched strings across a wooden frame, the mathematical relationships that make harmony possible already existed. Humanity discovered them because they had first been woven into creation.
Scientists, then, are not creating reality.
They are uncovering it.
Like archaeologists brushing dust from an ancient mosaic, they reveal what was always there.
For the Christian, this transforms discovery into something much richer than the accumulation of knowledge. It becomes an act of wonder. An act of humility. Even an act of worship.
Paradise itself will not be an end to discovery, but its true beginning. If God is infinite, then the exploration of His wisdom may never be exhausted. Throughout eternity there may always be another truth to uncover, another beauty to behold, another glimpse of the mind that spoke the universe into existence.
God hides things.
Not because He delights in keeping secrets. But because He delights in being found.
And every discovery, whether in Scripture or in creation, is another invitation to know Him a little more.
Scientists are not creating reality.
They're opening presents.
