Why do we put God in a box?
Why do we have no problem praying for God to heal a child’s cancer, but feel odd asking Him to fix our stuffy nose? Do we assume He’s too busy to deal with the little stuff, or are we limiting what He’s capable of and what He cares about?
Why do we find it so easy to pray in a church building, but feel strange doing it in the shower before we start our day, or while sitting on the commode? Are we so certain that God is so big and holy that He can only be approached in a reverent manner? And certainly not while we’re naked or doing personal business in the bathroom?!
I mean, sure He invented our bodies, and everything about them, including our private parts and even our elimination processes, but He doesn’t wanna see that! Right?! We feel shame about certain circumstances much like Adam and Eve did in the garden after eating the forbidden fruit. We rush to hide our nakedness, of body and thought-life, to keep them hidden from God.
But is He calling, “Where are you, child? Why have you hidden yourself from me?”
So we think, “God is too big, busy, and divine to hear about the traffic on the way to work, and I’m sure He has little concern over the spat I had with my best friend. He cares about the monumental things that affect the world at large, and surely He leaves the little details of my day to me.”
Why do we put God in a box?
Who are we to assume what He cares about and what He does not?
So, why do we consider certain aspects of our life worth sharing with the Lord, but not others?
We’ll ask God to bless our bank account, but not our marriage bed. We’ll pray about things like the physical health of our children, but consider sex too taboo to discuss with the big guy upstairs. And what does that mean anyway? Guy upstairs? Doesn’t He live right here in our hearts?
That really gets us thinking.
But that would mean He’s with me when I wash my butt, do that wild thing under the covers that drives my husband crazy, when I’m picking my nose, and cussing out that slow driver in the left-hand lane of the highway!
I’m not sure I’m ready to think about that!
Yes, it’s much easier to imagine Him like a fatherly genie who grants wishes when I ask for my co-worker’s test results to come back good, or to bless the Thanksgiving feast when we say grace.