Left Unasked:  The Grace We Fear to Receive

The Ask That Never Came

Genesis 3:9–10
(9)But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?”  (10)And he said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.”(ESV)


Adam and Eve fell.

They disobeyed.  They hid.  They felt shame.  They covered themselves.  But the thing that should bother us most—the thing we never talk about—is this:  They never asked for forgiveness.

Not once.  Not even a whisper.  They didn’t cry out.  They didn’t fall to their knees.  They didn’t say, “We were wrong, please help us.”  They stayed silent.

Because once they tasted the fruit, they didn’t just gain knowledge…

They lost trust.


The Knowledge of Good and Evil Did Not Include Grace

Genesis 3:7
Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked.  And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.(ESV)

They saw their nakedness.  Not just physically—but spiritually, morally.  They understood they had broken something.  But that knowledge—what Scripture calls the “knowledge of good and evil”—only gave them the capacity to see the problem, not to ask for healing.

It told them they had incurred a debt.  But it did not tell them that someone else could pay it.  Because the knowledge of good and evil isn’t the same as the knowledge of God’s character.

It’s awareness without relationship.  Moral insight without divine mercy.

Romans 5:20
Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more(ESV)

The law shows what’s broken.  Only God shows what can be restored.


They Couldn’t See What Was Always Available

When God approached them in the garden, He didn’t arrive with wrath in hand.  He asked:  “Where are you?”

Not because He didn’t know…but because He wanted them to know.  He was inviting them to step out of hiding.  To trust Him again.  To ask.

But they couldn’t.  Because the fruit had poisoned more than just their innocence.  It had rewritten the rules:

  • You sin, you owe.
  • You break it, you fix it.
  • You fail, you fall.

And in that system, asking only increases the debt.  So they hid in silence, hoping maybe God would leave them alone.  The fig leaf loincloth was their effort to fix what was never theirs to fix.


We Still Live Like That Today

We inherited more than sin in the garden.  We inherited fear of the ask.  We don’t confess.  We hint.  We don’t cry out.  We bury it.  We try to make ourselves better, hoping God will accept the new version of us without ever addressing the one that fell.  But that’s not what He wants.

He’s still calling out: “Where are you?”  Not to condemn.  But to invite.

Isaiah 30:18
Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you.  For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.(ESV)


Reflection Questions

  • What have you been afraid to ask God for—because you feel like you should have fixed it by now?
  • Where are you still hiding, hoping grace will come find you without having to name your need?
  • Are you willing to believe that the ask doesn’t deepen your debt—it opens the door to your healing?

Next Post:  The Debt You’re Afraid to Increase

Why we fear asking—even from people we love—and how that same fear distorts our view of prayer, grace, and relationship.

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Who am I?

I’ve walked a path I didn’t ask for, guided by a God I can’t ignore. I don’t wear titles well—writer, teacher, leader—they fit like borrowed armor. But I know this: I’ve bled truth onto a page, challenged what I was told to swallow, and led only because I refused to follow where I couldn’t see Christ.

I don’t see greatness in the mirror. I see someone ordinary, shaped by pain and made resilient through it. I’m not above anyone. I’m not below anyone. I’m just trying to live what I believe and document the war inside so others know they aren’t alone.

If you’re looking for polished answers, you won’t find them here.
But if you’re looking for honesty, tension, paradox, and a relentless pursuit of truth,
you’re in the right place.

If you’re unsure of what path to follow or disillusioned with the world today and are willing to walk with me along this path I follow, you’ll never be alone. Everyone is welcome and invited to participate as much as they feel comfortable with.

Now, welcome home. I’m Don.

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