The Real God

Do I see God for who he truly is, or do I see God for how I would like him to be? Is God real; is he truly other, or do I worship a God who is shaped in my image, crafted in my head by all that I wish Him to be? Even when I pray and study Scripture, am I encountering the Living God, or am I simply attempting self-improvement through these rituals of discipline?

I have been thinking about God’s reality these past few days, which oddly enough, is something I don’t often think about. I’ve always believed in God. I’ve always known that He is real, at least theoretically. God is real, even more real than I am, but, while I know He is real, I do not always live with an awareness of His reality. Not that I deny His existence or doubt His truth, but I do tend to treat Him as if He is there in order to serve me or to fulfill my desires. Perhaps I have focus too much on God’s imminence and not enough on His otherness. I meditate on His love and compassion but much less on his Lordship and sovereignty.

God longs for and expects my devotion, yet I often get this turned around. Rather than submitting to the will of this very real King of Creation, I seek to bend His will to mine. I ask Him to serve me, to bless me, to transform me. He becomes the means to my ends. I treat Him as if He exists to fulfill my life. How egocentric! How corrupt is my thinking!

Today I recognize that God does not exist for my pleasure; I exist for His. I am created by Him and for Him. While He does desire union with me, He does not need me. I, on the other hand, would cease to exist if it were not for his constant, sustaining reality. All that I am rests completely on His Being. I am only because He Is.

Today I am thankful that God is a real and loving Father. He understands this perversion in my thinking, but He still calls me His son. I may often be the son who thinks His Father’s only purpose is to make his son happy, to give him his inheritance whenever he wishes to receive it. I may forget that I would not even be here if it weren’t for the will of my Father. Yet He still loves, as a patient Father loves his children. He is longsuffering with my self-centeredness. He blesses me even though I don’t deserve it. He gives grace, even to those who selfishly seek it.