'That’s not my God'

When my daughter Ruby was small, she was permanently attached to a small toy dinosaur that we christened Derek. Derek was born in Ikea, but with Ruby he travelled the globe.

He went with her to the toilet. He went with her to Sainsbury’s. And he went with her to visit Granny and Grandad in Belfast. We all loved Derek, but Ruby’s love for him bordered on obsession. This was fine when we had him with us - it was not fine when we realised we’d left him behind.

As the terrible truth dawned, I swung into action. Derek, I said, was having a sleepover at the airport. He was living the dinosaur dream; surfing the luggage carousels. But he would be safely returned within the next 24 hours, (the time it took for me to order an identical dinosaur online from Ikea).

A day later, new Derek plopped through the letterbox. ‘Ruby,’ I shouted, ‘Derek’s back.’ Mentally, I high-fived myself for genius parenting – but my joy was short-lived. Ruby turned him over in her hands. 'Mummy,' she said, 'That’s not my dinosaur. His teeth are too shiny. His fur is too green. His tummy is too fat. And he’s got a price tag on him.' Busted.

Recognising the fake

I thought I’d got a new Derek, but I’d missed all the most important details about him. The chewed ear, the missing stuffing, the pen stains – the real deal. Ruby really saw him and wouldn’t accept any imitations. Straight away, she knew – that’s not my dinosaur.

At the time Ruby was three. I’m a grown-up but in this she could teach me. Because I’ve fallen for a similar story. About God. Let’s call it, ‘That’s not my God.’

Version one: A picture of a Greek statue raining down thunderbolts.

He’s powerful but he doesn’t care. Maybe you’ve encountered this God too – the headmaster type who’s cold, distant, and impossible to please. He’s the one who sees you mess up and shakes his head in disappointment. He might be strong, but what’s the point if He’s not on your side? He feels like a taskmaster, not a loving Father. This version of God is a distortion, and yet it can be deeply ingrained. Many of us grew up thinking of God as a cosmic rule enforcer, wielding His power without compassion. But is that really the God of the Bible?

Version two: A huggy, lovely guy with a beard who means well but is a bit inept.

He’s kind but he can’t do much. This God might be comforting at first glance, like a kindly grandpa who gives you sweets and pats you on the head. But deep down, you realise He’s not much help. He’s the God who offers warm thoughts but can’t actually change your situation. He’s willing but not able – and that’s no good when life gets tough. If this is your version of God, it might feel like He’s all love and no power. Ultimately, this leaves you feeling as alone as before.

Version three: A man holding out his hand to someone with a skin disease.

Let’s see it happen in Mark 1:40-42:

'A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed.'

Here is no cuddly toy. Jesus stands tall as the world falls to its knees before Him. He’s presented with pitiable need and He doesn’t melt with sentimentality or lash out with impatience. He is indignant, yes. Indignant with the enslaving forces of darkness, which He immediately reaches out to overcome.

He touches the untouchable and instead of uncleanness travelling from the leper to Christ — divine cleansing cascades from Christ to the leper. He says it, “Be clean!”, and it’s done. He is willing and He’s able — both good and powerful. If He was one without the other we’d get nowhere. But together? That’s my God. Or rather, that’s the God of the Bible.

'That's my God'

The Bible doesn’t shy away from showing us God’s power – He created the universe and holds it together. But it also shows us His heart: a God who stoops to care for the weak, who binds up the broken-hearted, and who ultimately gives Himself for us.

The cross is where we see His power and goodness at full strength. In Jesus, we meet a God who doesn’t just love in theory but acts in history, defeating sin and death for us. That’s a God worth knowing.

So don’t settle for any imitations – go straight to the source material and let him speak for Himself.

Open a Gospel and meet the real Jesus. Watch how He heals the sick, raises the dead, and speaks truth with compassion and authority. See how He confronts injustice, forgives sins, and ultimately lays down his life for you. This isn’t a God you can put in a box or invent to suit your preferences. He’s better than anything we could imagine – and once you’ve met Him, you’ll never mistake Him for anything less.