The God I’m Getting to Know

Lately I’ve been realizing that I’m on a slower path toward knowing God. Not learning new ideas about Him as much as learning to recognize Him.

The more time I spend slowing down in Scripture, the more I’m struck by how big God actually is. Not big in a vague or abstract way, but big in a way that resists being wrapped up cleanly. Grand. Weighty. Hard to summarize. And yet, at the same time, He keeps showing up closer than I expect. Those two things feel paradoxical, but I’m learning to stay with that tension instead of rushing past it.

One moment that’s stayed with me came from Exodus 34, where God describes Himself as slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. I’ve read that passage before, but this time it felt like it followed me. Once I noticed it, I started seeing that same language everywhere. In the Psalms. In the prophets. Woven through the story again and again. Not as a throwaway phrase, but as something God seems intent on repeating about Himself.

I find myself asking more these days, is that really how God is?

It's been sort of like realizing you’ve been hearing a voice for years and only just learning how to recognize it.

What’s surprised me most is where this recognition has been meeting me. Not when I feel confident or spiritually put together, but mostly when I’m aware of how much I need Him. The places where I feel unfinished or unsure seem to be the places where God feels most present these days. I’m starting to see that my dependence isn’t something I need to outgrow before God draws near. It’s actually the place where He seems to want to meet me first.

Reading Gentle and Lowly, by Dane Ortlund, gave language to something I’ve felt but struggled to articulate. The idea that we’re incredibly creative when it comes to assuming Jesus will eventually grow tired of us. Even when we can’t point to a specific failure, we tend to carry a vague sense that given enough time, He’ll keep us at a distance.

I recognize myself in that. I’m good at believing grace in theory and quietly doubting it in practice. Good at assuming there’s something in me that hasn’t been fully accounted for yet.

But what I keep running into in Scripture is a Jesus who already knows. Not just my past, but my present. Not just the obvious stuff, but the repetitive, frustrating parts too. And instead of pulling away, He seems willing to stay. To carry what feels too heavy and to meet my rough edges with patience rather than disappointment.

That’s been reshaping how I understand God’s character. He doesn’t seem fragile or easily offended. He doesn’t seem surprised by my slowness. The God who is far and beyond comprehension is the same God who keeps naming Himself as patient and faithful, especially in moments where people least deserve it.

This has changed how I come to Him. I feel more freedom to arrive as I am. More willingness to sit with what I don’t understand. I’m learning that God doesn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable with my questions as I am.

What’s also been interesting is that this hasn’t made my faith feel smaller. It’s actually made it sturdier. I’m less anxious about having everything nailed down and far less frantic when I don’t have the right words. I’m discovering that knowing God isn’t about arriving at certainty, but about learning to trust His presence over time.

I don’t think this season is about figuring God out, at least not in the way I would've come at it previously. I think it’s about staying with Him long enough to recognize His voice and to keep noticing the way He keeps describing Himself. To believe that slow to anger and abounding in love isn’t just a phrase to put on a bumper sticker, but a character I’m learning to trust.

I don’t know exactly where this path leads. But for the first time in a while, I’m okay with that.

And right now, that feels like enough.