Sunday, May 27, 2012

Painting a Picture of God

Recently a young girl I know who is struggling with trying to find herself said that if she found worth in herself then maybe she wouldn't need drugs. My heart cries out for her and so does Jesus'. As I think about things I wanted to share with her I thought of this piece I wrote six years ago for an online Christian magazine that was called "Reflections."

For you my sweet one, God can be this to you as well:

Lift your eyes and look to the heavens, who created all these. He who brings out the starry host and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength not one of them is missing. (Isaiah 40:26 NIV)

For those of us who are fortunate enough to be able to view the starry sky at night, it’s an awesome thing. Billions of stars sparkling in the night, too many to count, yet God reassures us that not a star is missing thanks to His great power and mighty strength. No different than the stars are the billions of people on earth that God is aware of, each and every one, present company included. Imagine that; He not only has every star accounted for but He gives surety to me that He even has the hairs on my head numbered.

Looking down at my hairbrush full of hairs, one day I began to ask myself, “I know what I mean to God but Who is God to me?” As my imagination took flight, I began to color in the picture already in my mind of Who God was to me. As I quietly searched through my heart full of memories, thoughts and feelings collected over the years, the picture began to form and became more colorful with each thought.

The reflection over the years showed God often being the source of my laughter when the world left me crying. The disciplinarian I needed when life was telling me it was okay to misbehave. A teacher ready with lessons and pop quizzes for me to learn when the world didn’t care if I ever was educated, pushing me with His determination and pulling me with His love. Forever watching over me on a daily basis, being the first to notice my tears and the last to leave my side as He counted each tear and paid attention to my sobs.

Truly loving me when I didn’t feel lovable, hugging me when I needed to be held. Working hard at reminding me that He was there for me as He sent notes in the form of rainbows, deer, a grasping hand, a warm smile for me to read. Definitely big enough to be Lord of all the earth yet small enough to fit in my heart if I would let Him. The battery pack that kept me going when my weak spirit told me I needed to quit and give up. Leaving me in awe over how much faith He had in me when I had none in myself.

A listening ear when I needed Him the most, Someone Who never ignored the sound of me knocking at His door no matter when it was, a true Shepherd who cares for the needs of His sheep even when they tend to wander. A patient parent willing to adopt me into His family, being understanding when I didn’t understand and my first words as a child were, “Why me, Daddy, why me?” When I couldn’t walk, He took the time to carry me, guiding me to where I needed to be once I was able to stand on my own.

He’s the glue that holds me together when I start to fall apart; a healer, someone I can trust, a wonderful artist, a creative friend who is unseen at times but never far away; the forgiver of my faults, even those that are hidden to the world. Praise the Lord that because of His great power and mighty strength, He’s allowed me to spigot in to where I can’t be shaken. I’m supplied with a spirit of power, not timidity, making me able to overcome life’s challenges and be a victor instead of a victim.

Satan is the one that has to listen to me instead of me paying attention to his lies. I leave my heart readily available to God’s Truth, a worthy resource of genuineness and grace available the day I lifted my eyes to the Heavens and invited the Lord into my life, where I could seek Him with all of my heart and be obedient to His will out of my love for Him.

God is not a Santa Claus, grandfather figure-in-the-sky, giving me all that I ask for. But He is a true Father who cares for His children, holding tightly to the inheritance He anxiously waits to give me some day, as He builds my eternal home in Heaven while I work on assembling our relationship together here on earth.

There I had it. The picture I was looking for: Who God was to me. Without a doubt, I matter to Him and He matters to me. Because of His great authority and impressive vigor, not a virtue is missing and my love for Him continues to grow, as I know His love for me does as well.

Again, Who is God to Me? Everything I could ever hope for and all I could ever need!

© 2006 by Karen J. Gillett

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