Have you ever felt like God was distant or silent? Like you were calling out into a void, waiting for a sign or an answer that never comes? I think all of us — even the most devout — would confess that God sometimes feels MIA. In times of loneliness or crisis, our soul cries out like a child who can’t find his playmates during a game of hide-and-seek: “Ollie, Ollie, in come free!” And sometimes it seems that no one is coming, like our call goes unheard.

This experience is so common that theologians call it the problem of “divine hiddenness.” Even the Bible says, 

“Truly, you are a God who has been hidden, the God of Israel, the Savior” (Isaiah 45:15). 

What could this possibly mean? Does God get a cruel kick out of concealing Himself? Or is there something deeper at work here?

The great French scientist and theologian Blaise Pascal wrote, “What can be seen on earth indicates neither the total absence nor the manifest presence of divinity, but the presence of a hidden God. Everything bears this stamp.”

Pascal isn’t saying that God plays games to frustrate us. Rather, he points to a tension that runs throughout Scripture: God is always present, yet not always obvious. His hiddenness is part of how He works in the world and in our hearts. If His presence were overwhelming and undeniable at every moment, faith would no longer be faith — it would be mere reaction to a spectacle. Hebrews 11:6 reminds us, 

“And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.” 

Faith requires a choice, a pursuit, a wrestling with the unseen. The Bible gives examples of this subtlety. Elijah, for instance, waited on Mount Horeb, expecting God to appear in wind, earthquake, or fire. Instead, God came in a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19). This is not trickery; it’s a pattern. The Hebrew word darash, often translated “seek,” conveys a careful, active pursuit. Jeremiah 29:13 says, 

“You will seek (darash) me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” 

This is not a “one-and-done” deal. You won’t experience God if you approach Him casually or expect a single moment to reveal everything. Finding Him requires persistence, patience, and wholehearted attention — returning again and again, listening, watching, waiting, and trusting. 

Augustine observed of God: “You are the most hidden from us and yet the most present among us, the most beautiful and yet the most strong, ever enduring, and yet we cannot comprehend you. You are unchangeable, and yet you change all things.” God is not truly absent; He is working, shaping, and calling us even when we cannot observe it with our limited human senses.

Yes, this can be hard. It can be painful. Sometimes we pray, cry out, and feel silence. But the hidden God is not indifferent. He is present in the small, almost imperceptible ways — through whispers, circumstances, and quiet nudges that shape our hearts. C.S. Lewis captured this beautifully in The Problem of Pain: “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

So the next time God seems hidden, remember: He is not missing. He is inviting you into a search that stretches faith, shapes character, and cultivates intimacy. Like the child in the game, you may not see the seeker immediately — but the presence is real, and the call is always answered in ways that matter most.