Does God understand you?

Learning to communicate with God who knows you

I needed help with a computer problem yesterday and my heart sank when I realized the “help” chat was clearly AI. I skeptically assumed I’d never get my question answered. But to my surprise, the AI was able to understand all the nuances of my question and walked me, step by step, to a solution. I was impressed.

I remember putting my daughter, Julia, into the car to go to the library when she was just a little over a year old. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Tada!” I chuckled and wondered what remarkable thing we were delighting in. But she persisted, “No, Tada!” Her eyes got wider as she enunciated, “Ta-da!” Clearly, I was not understanding her meaning. I ran through a checklist in my head, trying to figure out what she could possibly want so badly. Finally I pulled a cracker out of my bag and said, “Julia, are you trying to tell me you want a cracker?” She grabbed the cracker with relief. Finally, mom understood her. I was as relieved as she was.

I’ve recently been drawn to an old hymn that goes, “And he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me that I am his own.”* There’s comfort in a God who can walk with you and talk with you. But, how does God talk? Learning to hear God talk with you can feel even trickier than understanding a toddler or an AI chat.

Learning to talk with God is more than just learning each other’s communication style. It’s learning that you are understood. God doesn’t just want you to learn to hear him, he wants you to come to that sweet spot of relief, knowing that he understands you. He understands what you want, how you’re wired, what frustrates you, what brings you joy, and why.

One thing I’ve started to practice is taking a few moments of silence and asking God, “God what do you understand about me right now?” Then I hear him say back to me something like, “I know how much you want things to be finished. I get how scared you are of breaking trust with people. I know how much a lack of routine frustrates you.” And then I relax into knowing that I’m known. I feel safe to tell God more of what’s bothering me.

I sang that old hymn at Julia’s grave the other day. I could hear her singing it with me with wide-eyed enunciation: “And he WALKS with me, and he TALKS with me…” I sensed that she understood too. She’s got the same God who won’t give up intentionally knowing her. He knows her so well that he can figure out “Tada” means “cracker.”

How does God want to tell you he understands you today? Take a moment and ask him: Are there things about your personality or your current circumstances that he wants you to know he grasps?

*C. Austin Mills. ”In the Garden,” 1912.