I try to imagine each one. Each one has a life. Each car contains someone going somewhere. Each person has a history, a story, a destiny. In but a moment I am overwhelmed by the vast numbers of people in the city. My mind cannot grasp the fullness of each life that flashes past me. Each person lives in God’s sight, and Jesus assured us the Father has numbered the very hairs on each head.
I am confident that God knows me and cares about me. He not only knows the circumstances of my life, he knows my thoughts and wants to dialogue with me every moment of my day. As I’m driving, I think, “How can God know each person? How can he keep track of it all?” In fact, he cares for each one. He loves them--he’s not just “keeping track of” them. He is infinite, yet personal. Transcendent, yet closer than our thoughts.
We are tempted think God is just like us, only bigger and better. As I watch the endless stream of cars going the other way and try to think of every person I realize God isn’t just a bigger version of me. He is something—Someone—completely other than me. The vast numbers of people in my city, my state, my country, worldwide only demonstrate his greatness. He knows and cares for every one of them. Here’s what the Father told Jonah about Nineveh, the great city of that day: “Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?” (Jonah 4: 11)
Do you want to be overwhelmed by God’s greatness? Why not consider this week that God not only knows you and cares for you, but for every person alive or who has every lived.
This post made me smile, as I started reading it. As a kid, traveling in my parents' car, I used to ponder almost identical ideas: "So many people, living their very own lives and having their very own thoughts at each and every moment. How can God really know each of us?" I know I questioned these things more out of suspicion than wonder and awe.
ReplyDeleteBy the end of the post, I realized how far I've come—not in understanding God, really, but in understanding this:
"...God isn’t just a bigger version of me. He is something—Someone—completely other than me."
That, for me, is where suspicion gives way to awe. Thanks for articulating it.
This post made me smile, as I started reading it. As a kid, traveling in my parents' car, I used to ponder almost identical ideas: "So many people, living their very own lives and having their very own thoughts at each and every moment. How can God really know each of us?" I know I questioned these things more out of suspicion than wonder and awe.
ReplyDeleteBy the end of the post, I realized how far I've come—not in understanding God, really, but in understanding this:
"...God isn’t just a bigger version of me. He is something—Someone—completely other than me."
That, for me, is where suspicion gives way to awe. Thanks for articulating it.