I thought I knew God. Sure, you can never fully know Him, but that’s the beauty of life, right? You get to keep digging deeper into His beauty and kindness and goodness. But over the last months I’ve been getting this sneaking suspicion that I don’t know God at all. I only know His Shadow. Then I read Leviticus and I realized I didn’t really know who my God is. Then something bad happened to someone good who shouldn’t ever have to deal with another bad thing ever again. And then I really realized. Who could this God possibly be?
The same God who met me and cradled me and carried me in the darkest time of my life turned a stony face to a child of His who sought His love. The same God who was served by prostitutes and sat with sinners said that no Levite with any physical defect could serve in His tabernacle. I mean really God? You let men with fallen sinful hearts serve in Your sanctuary, but no, a limp is too much, that’s where You draw the line? The same God who said He is not willing that any should perish sent thousands of innocent Egyptian boys to an untimely death. The same God who showers me with better gifts than the purest prophet ever deserved takes and takes and takes from faces who are genuinely turned towards Him.
I know it’s not a new question, but I didn’t know it was my question.
I don’t want to see a flat God. But my capacity for knowing and understanding is so insufficient.