Our mental images of God can be so funny sometimes. You know that when you picture God you see something like the old wrinkly man, in a white robe, with a long white beard, wearing Jesus sandals. We've all done it. That is, unless you've recently watched Bruce Almighty lately, then you may be picturing Morgan Freeman.
While I'm fairly certain, aka 100% positive, that God doesn't physically look like anything we can imagine, this week I was challenged to think about God's face.
You would think that this lesson would sink into my thick skull, but when I picture God looking down on me, I've always imagined the look on his face to be one of disappointment. I had this picture of him with his hand framing his forehead, just shaking his head and saying, "Oh, Megan, Megan, Megan, why can't you ever get this right?" or "Good night, how long will it take you to grow in this area?" or "Are we rreeaallyyy back here again?"
I imagine Him a frustrated, almost exasperated father who is just biting the bit for me to get my act together.
And yet, I know this isn't true. I may not know God's physical features, but I can say for certain that I know the look on his face when he sees me.
God is overjoyed when He looks at me. Because, the truth of the gospel is that He is DEEPLY satisfied with me.
I am united with Jesus, and logically, I know that God isn't disappointed with Jesus. He says that he is 'well pleased' with His son. When God looks at me, he sees Jesus. And God is pleased with me because he is pleased with Jesus.
I can do no more to increase God's satisfaction with me than I can do to....well, I can't think of anything completely impossible right now, but you get my point.
Overjoyed. Let that sink in. How different would our lives look if we really believed that we a) saw God's satisfaction as our only necessity and b) knew there is no way to diminish said satisfaction??
Mine would look very different for sure. I imagine freedom would be a good descriptor.
Happy Wednesday, peeps.