Does God Know You?

If you’ve been around church very long, you’ve probably been asked some version of this question:

"How did you come to know God?"

Serving on the staff of a Christian college ministry, I often ask students to tell me their “spiritual story” of coming to know God. What I hear in response frequently begins with a timeline of church involvement — “Well, I went to the such-and-such church when I was little …” — followed by a "but then ..."

“But then my parents got a divorce.”

“But then I just lost interest.”

“But then we had a falling out with the pastor there.”

At this point, they haven’t really told me anything about coming to know God.

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Jesus offers me a much better plan. He promises to make me everything I need to be in order for God to know me.

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I like to pride myself on having a well-articulated “coming to know God” story. I've memorized it, and I pull it out to relate to others and tell them how they can know God, too.

But recently, a friend challenged me with the question, "Does God know you?"

I almost smirked at its simplicity. Of course God knows me! God knows everything!

But its profundity began to sink in as I thought about what it would take and who I would have to be in order for God to know me.

Maybe it’s easier to think in human terms first. Who would I have to be in order for the president of the United States to know me? I would have to be exceptional. Probably wealthy, influential, smart and powerful. I’d need to know the right people, say the right things, be in just the right places at just the right times.

Lots of people know President Obama. They promote his work, hold signs bearing his name, and have a pretty good knowledge of who he is and what he stands for. Their whole lives may revolve around President Obama.

But he has no idea who they are.

Does God know you?

Part of me wants to hide from this question. It’s much easier to know God than to be known by Him. It’s much easier to memorize facts about a biblical way to deal with fear than to come to God when I am afraid. It’s much easier to quote Scripture about comfort in pain than to come to God hurting and in tears.

It’s a hiding that goes all the way back to Eve, hiding with Adam from the God they used to walk with in the garden. A secret shame that tells us we aren’t who we need to be for God to know us.

This is true. I am not who I need to be.

Ironically, the only solution is for God to know me.

I find this very unsettling at times because I don’t always really want God to know me. I don’t want Him to know that I am scared, hurt, questioning, wondering, unsure. I’d really like to just “work on myself” some more and then some day — I don’t know when, but someday! — I’d like to present my polished, put-together self to God and know that I had pleased Him.

This is a great plan except that it leaves me stressed and miserable. Also, it just doesn’t work.

Jesus offers me a much better plan. He promises to make me everything I need to be in order for God to know me.

But now I have to ask myself if I will trust Him.

Will I trust Him enough to let His gaze reach so deep into my soul that I am never the same? For there to be the kind of knowing between us that changes the way I think, what I say, how I live?

I don’t want to just “know God” and do things for Him. I want Him to know me.

Does God know you?

Kendra Stuart loves living in Fayetteville and working with college students through Cru. She loves her fiance, James, even more and can't wait to marry him in August! Other loves include morning donuts and coffee at Rick's Bakery, afternoon hikes almost anywhere, and long walks on the beach.