Limitless God

Limitless God

Several months ago I came straight home from church and wrote down some descriptions of people that I’m going to share with you today. I had what Oprah refers to as an “aha moment”, some would call it an epiphany but, for those of us who believe, we know it’s most likely the Holy Spirit. If you’re someone who doesn’t believe in that, I hope you’ll read anyway. I hope you can still see beauty in these stories and I hope I write them in a way that speaks to you.

The Sunday I wrote down these observations was a Sunday when I put on my all too familiar most common Sunday morning internal conflict: church attendance. Man do I fight with myself about church attendance. I woke up late, did my typical bargaining with God; I could take a walk and see You there, I could open my Bible and do a devotion here and find You, I could turn on some praise music and make my morning only about praising You. But still I knew I was meant to go.

So then I was running late on double circumstances, waking up late and wasting time bargaining. I was rushed in getting ready, out the door, speeding around the curves of the cut across road and relentlessly berating myself for being so selfish of my time that I can’t be prepared to give Him one and a half hours of my Sunday morning. By the time I squealed tires into the parking lot at 9:32 I had put on the guilt of a hundred late for church women. How pathetic I am on Sunday mornings.

Doing that awkward run-walk into the church I committed myself to paying attention to the message more than ever before! It’s the least I could do. Tune in, pay attention and learn something as some sort of proof or offering that I’m making it right and in some way earning forgiveness for how I act on Sunday mornings.

I slid into that fabulously cozy back row and for the first time that day said good morning God. No bargaining, just good morning and a request that He lets me hear what’s meant for me. The title of that Sunday morning message was: Quit Limiting God. In hindsight there couldn’t have been a more appropriate title.

Now I’m what folks nowadays call an ADHD’er. Undiagnosed and untreated because your girl grew up in the 80’s and honestly I’m okay with that. I would argue I actually thrive in most areas of my life in spite of and because of it. But one area I have yet to fully master is paying attention to a lesson in a room full of interesting people, a hundred noises and at my current church, lots of pretty lights. There are squirrels everywhere! (That’s a ADHD joke, I hope you got it)

So naturally as this message I have vowed to pay close attention to moves on, my mind wanders. And because my brain can juggle up to 17 things at a time, I’ve got all kinds of balls in the air. I’m asking for forgiveness because darn it, I know I’m not paying attention, I’m thinking about the lady 2 rows up, I’m wondering if the praise team has a signal they use to know when to go back up, I’m smiling at the kid in the front row with his mom, I’m hearing the Pastor telling me not to limit God, I’m remembering how beautiful it was to watch the hearing impaired lady during the praise music….squirrels. But God knows my brain and my soul. I did walk away that Sunday morning appreciating how important it is to remember that He has no limits. Including how He speaks to me.

I put Him in a box that Sunday. A box that said- tell me what I’m supposed to hear through the message the Pastor gives. I think what He said instead is: Sara you require more than that. Hear the message, while you talk to me about the lady 2 rows up. Reflect on what the Pastor is saying while you remember the battle that little boy in the front row had a few years back. Bow your head while the Pastor prays but think about how awesome it was to see that lady use sign language to sing “Holy Holy Holy”.

I think God used my all too busy brain that morning to let me hear more than just the words of the message. That lady who was sitting 2 rows up; she drew my attention because she seemed to be right in front of God when she was singing those praise songs. Her hair was just coming back in. I believe she must be in the midst of a cancer battle. Physically speaking I suppose she seemed frail but during those songs she looked fierce. Like she knew about some strength in God I wasn’t aware of. She knew a limitless God, it was palpable.

That boy in the front row, I remembered from several years before. He was much different then. When we had our restaurant we donated tips to charities. That’s how I knew him. He was almost unrecognizable now. Then he was pale and weak with patchy bald spots dotting his head. They were so appreciative of the tip check but he was hurting and his smile in the picture showed it. Now he stands in the front row with his mom beside him and I swear there are no bigger smiles during the praise music than that boys and his momma’s. They know a limitless God. Their smiles alone are a testament to it.

Then there was the lady sitting in the middle. Obviously well versed in sign language. Seeing her sign those praise songs was like watching her perform for God. Just God and her. She was unashamed and it was beautiful. Every word was poetry in motion. One song repeated “Holy, Holy, Holy” and she would scroll her hands up toward heaven three times in a row, once for each Holy. She praised in dance and her dance made it evident she knows a limitless God.

As I drove home, I was so grateful that God doesn’t put limits on how He talks to me. He’s not going to only show up in the way I ask Him to. He’s going to show me all the ways He can speak to me. He’s going to fill up all of those little cubbies in my brain so I can “hear” Him in multiple ways that keeps me intrigued.

He can allow me to hear the message while I thank Him for showing me these people around me who radiate the Pastors words tangibly in their presence alone. He can make me realize how blessed I am to have just a small understanding of his limitless existence by just glancing at someone who knows of it first hand because they’re battling cancer. He can make me realize that I shouldn’t be shy to raise my hands in praise because that hearing impaired lady looks absolutely beautiful praising Him. And he can gently remind me that everyone struggles to get to church sometimes, that my struggles are minute in comparison to others but He loves me anyways. If I had closed my eyes that Sunday and kept Him in that box of only using the Pastors words to speak to me, I would have limited Him of all the beautiful things He sent for me to see. He tied it all together. The words of the Pastor that He knew would get a little jumbled in my brain, paired with visual representation He knows I need. He talked to me in all the ways a limitless God can.

Psalm 147:5. "Great is our Lord and abundant in strength; His understanding is infinite."