In what ways have I learned the character of God? How have I learned it?

I feel like I have to start with a caveat. If I’ve learned anything at all in the “relating to God” category, it would primarily be that while God as Creator deals with His mankind in outline ways, God as our Father deals with us individually. While there are blanket statements that can be made about God, I find they’re usually dangerous. He’s fluid. The same God of wrath is the same God of mercy. The same God of love is the same God of war. The variables involved in any particular moment constitute the attributes of God that are demonstrated, even though all attributes are present. So to tell you how I’ve learned some of the characteristics of God is not to imply they are the same things anyone else will learn in the same manner.

I can’t stress this enough: study the life of Christ.

These are just some examples of things I’ve learned about God from watching, listening, waiting, observing…

I know Him as Creator from observation: thunderstorms, rolling hills, a stream with life abundant, sunrise, the wind, the stars, and especially the mountains. I always see Him in the mountains; always feel His might, His majesty, His presence.

The rest has been trial and error.

God knows us intimately. We know neither ourselves that well, nor God. But if we want to know Him, He will make Himself known to us. The examples I give taken out of context will not be very helpful and will open me up for criticism. Try not to go there (criticize). For brevity, I can’t explain all the details that led to the moments – but I’ll try to explain sufficiently. In no particular order…

*I had come to a mostly full understanding that I was (mentally and emotionally) abusing my stepdaughter. I had unwittingly repeated the manipulation and control I had lived under, and my stepdaughter was quietly slipping away to a reclusive shelter in her mind. Too many events to detail had led to this moment of realization, horror and shame. I went to God and asked for His help. What do I do? How do I change? And I waited to hear from Him.

As I waited, the weight of my failure crushed me. I knew more than anyone what a hideous person I was, how ugly my heart was, how destructive I had been. I knew justice would be brutal.

I was raised by an iron fist, and I both expected and dreaded the response I would get. I expected punishment, reparation work, and the ever present knowledge that I was not good enough for God or anyone. When He finally spoke He simply said, “Isaiah 62.”

With trepidation I prepared for the worst. I assumed it would be a discourse on the wickedness of the heart, the blackness of sin, the chasm between me and God. Instead, as I read, He replaced Israel with my name, and I read:

For [my] sake I [God]will not keep silent, and for [my]’s sake I [God] will not keep quiet, until her righteousness goes forth like brightness, and her salvation like a torch that is burning. The nations will see your righteousness, and all kings your glory; and you will be called by a new name which the mouth of the Lord will designate. You will also be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.  

I cannot convey to you the utter shock I was in. I was well aware of my worthlessness. I was keenly in tune with my failures. I had suffered difficult trials and had little to no defenders at gross injustices I had endured. I kept reading, sure that it was going to turn:

It will no longer be said to you, ” Forsaken,” nor to your land will it any longer be said, ” Desolate”; but you will be called, ” My delight is in her,” and your land, ” Married”; for the Lord delights in you, and to Him your land will be married.

And I was now unable to read the words on the page for the tears that flowed uncontrollably. My mother had abandoned me when I was two. My adoptive parents had legally disowned me when I was sixteen. Forsaken was a word I was acutely familiar with. Desolate was a state of my being. Except for my husband, no one had ever wanted me.

There was more to that day and that moment. There was more to that chapter I eventually got through. But what I learned that day about the character of God, was that in the face of my hideous behavior, thoughts and actions, He called me valued by Him. He wanted me. I was fully convinced I was worthless. Though my abilities and intellect were superlative, my heart was black. I had been methodically stripping my stepdaughter of esteem and worth, plotting ways to reject her. I had rewired her heart and her mind in destructive ways instead of nurturing and building health in her. I was worthy of the harshest of judgment. I became aware over those days that the character of God sees His children not as we are, but as He created us to be. He beckons us to become that.

 

*I stood by the fireplace in the house John Brown stayed while laboring to make Kansas a free state. My daughter and I were the only ones in the museum, except for the museum host. I was conflicted by the man John Brown. There were so many opinions — if he was a good man, if he was a wicked man. My daughter was nine and she had wandered to the next room. I turned to go when I heard the Lord, “Where are my John Browns today?” I simultaneously felt His heart for just a moment, a heart that esteemed John Brown, even trusted him. It lasted less than a minute.

I told the Lord I didn’t understand. John Brown murdered men on the Missouri side, went to the man’s house and killed him and part of his household. The Lord remained silent. So I waited. I have learned to not argue with God, but that if I wait, He will reveal Himself. So I conceded John Brown was esteemed in the eyes of God, what better reference could a man get? And I waited for the understanding. It was days later that I was reading the Word. As I read in Ecclesiastes 3:3, “There’s a time to kill and a time to heal.” The Lord asked, “Do you understand John Brown now?”

In that experience I learned that how God looks at people and how people look at people are different. I learned that things that are hard (like murder) may even be necessary. I learned to not make preconceived judgments of people and things because I don’t know the intricacies, how God may be using them, what the purposes may really be. I learned God’s wisdom far supersedes my own, and I need his heart to make a right judgment – even of murder.

[This will offend every religious and “moral” person. I am reluctant to speak of it for that reason.]

 

*Years later I was driving over a landmark bridge when I heard the news on the radio that abortionist George Tiller had been shot dead at his “church”. Immediately every secular and religious pundit condemned the act. Churches and religious leaders immediately took to their audiences to tell them what God thinks about such actions. I waited to form a judgment. I was a youth leader and parents and laity alike were waiting for me to speak against it. I refrained and said nothing.

In my heart, I asked the Lord, “What do You think?” His response eventually came, “My judgments are not the same as the religious leaders, Michelle. Remember John Brown. The battle for righteousness sometimes comes at a high cost.” I knew God’s heart about the Tiller murder. I have never spoken on it.

I learned that God’s character is not impugned just because the religious people think they know what God thinks. I also learned God will not force His judgments on humanity. If we fail to seek Him for His thoughts/heart on a matter, we can’t presume to know for sure that we know it – and we often misrepresent Him in our ignorant zeal.

 

*The kids and I had met their dad for lunch on his work break. We were eating at a crowded fast food restaurant when I noticed a man with his family. I think he had his arm in a cast or sling. As I watched them, the Lord impressed upon me that the man was burdened with financial stress. I also sensed that he was a good husband and dad, doing the best he could and that God was pleased with him. The Lord asked me to go pray for him and to encourage him with what God had shown me.

I meant to. I wanted to. But there were so many people in the restaurant and I worried what people would think. I worried what the man would think. What if I was wrong? What if I missed it? The man looked tired, and I felt weird about “bothering” him. I hesitated long enough that I missed my chance.

I was dismayed. As I drove home, I asked for God’s forgiveness for not obeying. I prayed for the man and his family that God would move on their behalf. The Lord said, “You need to learn what it means to be a man of no reputation, like Christ.” As I pressed God for understanding and began running through thoughts of what a reputation is or isn’t, the Lord reinforced, “No Michelle, a man of NO reputation.”

Do you know that that phrase from Phil. 2:7 literally means “to make empty, to abase”? It’s not a good reputation I pursue and it’s not a bad reputation I avoid (for myself) – I’m to be of NO reputation to man that I may be of use to God. If I had been a man of no reputation in that restaurant, I would not have had a thought of what anyone thought good or bad. I would simply have done the work God showed me.

Christ said if you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father. So God Himself is of no reputation, so to speak. His character? He has emptied Himself on this earth of any esteem (which He is most definitely worthy of) or ridicule (which happens continuously) from men. He has abased Himself. My praise of Him or my ridicule of Him is of no regard.

 

*One more: I had been praying about something for direction. I wanted to really know for sure if I should do this particular thing. (It was not good or bad, just a lateral move in my life.) I fasted and prayed. I sought prayer and counsel. I sat on it for weeks. I finally felt certain that I knew I was to do it. Just as I was about to move, the door closed.

I was stupefied. I didn’t necessarily care either way about the actual “thing” – whether I should do it or not. What I really cared about was praying and getting a right answer from God, hearing Him correctly. This rocked my faith to the core. What good is this faith walk if I can’t know for sure when I pray whether I’m hearing correctly or not? I teetered on abandoning the fervent faith and just being your average Christian, go to church, do good things, live your life, think about God here and there – just not this sold out thing. [I am not conveying the crisis of faith this was for me very adequately, but it was.]

I have burned my bridges here, Devon. I’ve found God and Christ worthy of my life, and I really do try to abandon my life for the things of God. There was no plan B for me. But now, if I can’t be assured I can hear His will for this somewhat minor decision, what can I be sure of, I reasoned? I teetered precariously on the edge of unbelief for longer than I care to admit. (and faith is usually easy for me)

I slumped into a depression that waffled between anger and self-pity. After too many days and weeks of this, I echoed my same tired railing accusations at Him and then slumped back into a mild depression. Finally He spoke, “Are you done?” Wow. Tantrum called. When I affirmed that I was, He simply said, “If you worship Me for any other reason than I am God, your faith will eventually fail you. If you follow Me to get answers, pray to get assistance, seek to get counsel, these things will eventually fail you.” As revelation began to dawn He stated once more, “If you worship Me for any other reason than I am God, your faith will eventually fail.”

This is my most priceless lesson. I learned that the character of God exceeds the understanding of human minds. He is either God and worthy of our worship, or He is not, is less than, and may or may not give help with our troubles, healing, deliverance, you name it. But these things are not why we worship Him. If God be almighty, omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, sovereign, holy, and all the things that He really is, THAT is why I worship Him. Not to hear from Him. Not to get help in my time of trouble. Not to get wisdom or understanding. Not to solve my problems or the worlds.

When Moses asked God what name he was to give the Israelites if they asked who sent him, God answered, “I am that I am.” That is enough; that is all; that is complete. The Hebrew word there literally means “to exist”.

I have learned to watch and listen and wait. God has been faithful to reveal parts of His character to me to enable me to have a relationship with Him. He is my dad. I don’t always get answers when I have questions, but He’s still God. I have that He is God and I am not. That He would make a way for me to know Him still humbles my heart. I desperately want to know God, so I seek Him.

He speaks to me personally, in ways I can personally understand. They may not be ways you would understand. Because He knows each of us, He can speak to each of us in our language. Most likely He won’t reveal Himself to you the way He reveals Himself to me. Because you’re not me.

I spoke at a church a few months ago and shared my testimony. As I was preparing, I got excited because of all the things God has done for me and revealed to me. I excitedly said (to God), “And I’m going to tell them ‘What God’s done for me, He can do for you!’” God stopped me, said, “No! Don’t tell them that!” I was shocked. Why not? He answered, “I am God. I do not change. You are people and you’re all different. I will not do for Tiffany or Mike or anyone else what I’ve done for you in the way I’ve done it for you. I will meet each of My children where they are and respond in a way that fits who they are.”

I think you’re coming at God from the angle of the big questions (?), and those are hard to answer effectively without an established relationship. There’s not an understanding. I’d love to sit down and talk to someone like Putin. I’d love to hear what’s in his head. I’ve read about him. I’ve heard things people who know him have said. I’ve heard things he has said. I know things about him. I like some things about him, and dislike some things about him. I don’t understand other things about him – some of the things he has said or done. But what’s he going to tell me? We don’t have a relationship. Where would we start?

I could say, “Hey, Putin! I know seventeen years ago you put your daughters in different schools in different countries and under different names. What kind of fathering is THAT?” Where’s he going to go with that? What do I know about the variables in that equation that will enable him to short answer that for me so I understand?

I’m just saying, if we want to understand someone it’s best to establish a relationship with them. It’s best to hear from them personally. We can only read so much about someone. We can only listen to stories about someone for so much information. To know them, we must get to know them. To understand them, we must listen to them, hear them from their perspective. That’s my goal with God. I can read about Him, hear others’ stories about Him (good and bad), form my own opinion of Him, but until I’ve met with Him, heard Him, I only know about Him, and that knowledge will be incomplete at best, errant at worst.