When God Thinks of You

Years ago, a friend asked me a question that has profoundly impacted my life. I was going through a rough patch, as they say, struggling with a low self-image, feeling like a failure. The question that helped me regain perspective, as I pondered it and prayed into it, was...

What do you think God thinks of when He thinks of you?

My first thought was, "Does God ever think of me?" The very idea seemed unlikely, that God would ever think of me with all the other things He has to think about. But God is not like us. He's not distracted or preoccupied with other things. He's able to be as attentive as anyone could possibly be to all of us, all the time. Of course, God thinks of me. He never stops thinking of any of us. We're always top of mind, His first concern. And He loves us with an absolutely unconditional, unlimited, and unimaginably extravagant love. Learning to rely on His love, as it says in 1 John 4:16, is the key to contentment in this life. What do you think God thinks of when He thinks of you is an important question. I'd encourage you to ask God about it. But I want to raise another question that may be equally important.

What do you think of when you think of God?

A.W. Tozer wrote, "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us." It's true. Your perception of God, what you think of Him when you think of Him, colors everything you do. I mean, who wants to draw close to someone they see as a disapproving father or an angry judge? Who wants to spend time with someone they see as distant or aloof, uninterested and unconcerned? Your experience with your earthly father, now and in your childhood, might have a lot to do with what you think of when you think of God. You may wonder, is God good? Is He trustworthy? Is He generous? It's a question worthy of consideration. What do you think of when you think of God?

Recently, in an online small group, I was encouraged to answer the question. "Spend some time with God in quiet contemplation," the leader said, "then draw a picture that illustrates your view of God over the changing seasons of your life." It sounded simple enough. I shut off the camera and dutifully bowed my head and asked the Father to reveal the truth to my heart, not expecting anything profound. What happened next surprised me. After a few minutes, a series of four distinct pictures came to mind. Each involving a tree, if you can believe it. The trees, all too familiar to me, came to represent my view of God in four prominent seasons of my life.

Four Views of God

The first tree was a large oak that stands just outside the staff conference room at the church I've served for nearly twenty-five years. It's beautiful, majestic even, but there are these weird markings on one side of the tree that form an unmistakable frowney face, obvious to anyone who sees it. I have never sat in the presence of a more disapproving tree in my life! That's how I thought of God in my early years as a Christian. He was observant, attentive, and vigilant but generally disapproving, rigid, and a bit judgmental.

The second tree was from The Lord of Rings trilogy. Treebeard, the tree-giant that slowly and deliberately walked and talked with Merry and Pippin in The Two Towers, is said by Gandalf to be the "oldest living thing that still walks beneath the sun upon this Middle Earth." This reminded me of a period in my early years in ministry when God spoke to me regularly in dreams and visions. In those days, he was very interactive, but I often found His interactions to be slow, deliberate, and confusing, like talking to Treebeard. He also seemed reticent to make Himself clear or respond to my requests. I know now that I had the wrong end of the stick, but that's how I thought of Him in those days.

The third tree was actually two trees that have grown into the walls of an ancient stone church in Stow-on-the-Wold, England. My wife and I visited the church in 2016. The trees frame the main entrance, a beautiful wooden door that's said to be the inspiration J.R.R. Tolkein used when he imagined the door to Moria. This door, intertwined with the trees beside it -- where you can't tell where the tree stops and the door begins -- reminded me of the last ten years of my walk with God. Ten years ago, God invited me in, and my desire for more of Him gave birth to an intimacy I had never known. I went from occasionally abiding to more constantly abiding, opening a door to a life with God that I didn't even know existed.

The fourth tree was the outlier. I had to take a moment to remember where I'd seen it. And then, it came to me. Several years ago, I visited Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. There, in the cemetery, not far from where President Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address at the end of the Civil War, is a tree so large you can't miss it. Fascinated, I walked around it in wonder and discovered, much to my delight, a gaping hole on the other side. The hole was large enough for a man my size to step in and out of the tree with little effort. As I stood there, looking at what felt like an open door, I mused at what might await me on the other side. That is how I think of God today. More than ever, I sense His invitation into the unknown, to trade my sometimes autonomous life for a life lived in total dependence upon Him. As I stand here, today, at the threshold of this next season of my life, my curiosity is piqued. I can feel the longing in my soul. It's time for a new adventure, responding to the One who goes before me, behind me, beside me, above me, below me, and within me. What do you think of when you think of God?