Imagine the existence of a master chef who makes infinitely satisfying food. He is a culinary god in the kitchen. Chicken divan crepes, lobster mashed potatoes, marbled Wagyu sizzled to perfection. This Master Chef has committed himself to your infinite satisfaction in his manifold delicacies.

You sit starving, rummaging through the couch cushions for potato chip shrapnel and fallen Cheetos. The Master Chef is sizzling away in his kitchen. He could push through the swinging doors any second, arms stacked with heavenly creations. But he doesn’t. There are no swinging doors, no smiling chefs, no savory morsels from where you sit — just whatever old, stale Cheetos you discover between couch cushions. You wonder, Where’s my satisfaction now? Where is this Master Chef committed to my joy? What if life is all just stale Cheetos? The Chef, while cooking in his exquisite glory, can hear you growl from the stomach of your soul. You growl, he waits. You starve, he tarries. You’re dissatisfied, and he hides away in his kitchen, committed to your joy. What?! How could he possibly be committed to your joy if he has platter after platter of pure eating pleasure at his disposal and knows you are munching on expired snacks?

Aah, the Master Chef knows something you do not. He knows just how satisfying his mouthwatering meal really is because he made it. Moreover, he knows just what will satisfy you and when it will satisfy you most because he made you (we’re obviously talking about the Divine Chef). He knows just what state your soul’s stomach must be in to find its maximum satisfaction in his many dishes. He knows that the more starved your soul, the more satisfying the long-awaited five-star meal. He knows what it takes to show you how unfulfilling old Cheetos are compared to his eternal feast. And as the omniscient Chef, he knows how certain sweets now would spoil your satisfaction later.

It is not because God has neglected your joy in those times that he makes you feel dissatisfied and distant from him. On the contrary, it is precisely because he is so unfailingly committed to your satisfaction that he makes you feel dissatisfied and distant. I will say it again: God hides precisely because he wants to maximize your fulfillment and joy. God’s hiddenness and your enduring happiness are not at odds. The former is one of God’s many sovereign means to the latter. As a God who is happy in your happiness (Isa. 43:6–7; Zeph. 3:17) and who cannot fail in his own happiness (Isa. 46:9– 10; 48:9–11), he cannot fail in making you infinitely happy (Ps. 115:3; John 6:44; Rom. 8:30). As an all-knowing God, he knows exactly what will make you happy — namely, himself. He knows exactly when it will make you most happy — namely, after intense hunger. He knows exactly how to show you how unsatisfying the stale Cheetos God-substitutes of sin really are.

At last we reach our conclusion: God hides for our happiness. (And we must be careful not to confuse this God-given happiness with fleeting hits of dopamine in the brain’s pleasure receptors.) We can be satisfyingly dissatisfied knowing that. God can and does bring about lasting satisfaction through our temporary dissatisfactions.

Taken from by Thaddeus J. Williams (associate professor of theology, M.A. ’01). Copyright © 2024 by Thaddeus J. Williams. Used by permission of Zondervan.