We hear it (or say it) when attitude takes on, well…an attitude.

“Remember who you’re talking to.”

I reminded my daughters of this the other day. All the signs were there. The raising of the voice. Exaggerated body language. Speaking with a tone that is too presumptuous. And though they are too young to understand the term, let alone spell it, a bit of condescension. A hint of “I know more, so let me educate you.” They were forgetting they are 10 and I’m, well…their Dad.

“Remember who you’re talking to.”

What is it in us that makes us forget who we are talking to?

We’ve heard it said, “Whatever it is you’re thinking and feeling, tell God. Even if you’re angry, pour out your heart. He’s big enough to take it.” This is true. God is big enough to take it. Indeed God invites us to “cast all our cares on Him, because He cares for us” (1 Peter 5:7). He goes even further in telling us to “come boldly before the throne of grace that we might obtain mercy and find grace in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). God is clear. He wants us to communicate whatever is on our mind and heart.

I wonder, though, if in the communicating we sometimes forget who we’re talking to?

The perpetual challenge for Christians of every generation is to worship the whole of God. Our natural tendency as imperfect humans is to gravitate toward the perfections of God we like the most.  We like God’s patience with us. We like God’s forgiveness. We like that God never leaves us or abandons us. We like God’s love. I remember the Jesus Movement of the 1970′s where it seemed the love of God was emphasized above all else. It was the aftermath of Vietnam and the the anti-war movement. Years where the peace symbol was found everywhere t-shirts, bumper stickers, and records were sold. A popular book of that time by “Peanuts” creator Charles Schulz was titled, “Happiness Is A Warm Puppy.” That’s how many Christians viewed God. He was your pal. A heavenly fuzzy buddy you could get close to.

Certainly God is our friend. The Bible is clear on that. Yet in the process of becoming familiar and comfortable, it seems we’ve pushed aside other equally present attributes of God. Like His holiness. Or His sovereignty. Or the fact that He is self-existent and eternal. God’s righteousness and justice are no less part of His perfection than His love and mercy.

If we focus on God’s love toward us at the expense of His holiness, it is possible to forget Who it is we are talking to. The same God who bids us to cast all our cares on Him is the same God who, with perfect judgment, destroyed people and nations for their sins against Him. The God who calls us friend is the same God whose purity and holiness is an all consuming fire. The God who tells us to ask Him for our daily bread and promises to take care of our needs is the same God who spreads out the heavens like a tent and uses the earth as a foot rest.

Do we remember Who we are talking to?

I can’t speak for you, but during the inevitable episodes of deep frustration and anger in my life I’ve sometimes been guilty in my “God is big enough to take it” rants of forgetting Who I’m talking to. I’ve spoken to Him as though He is blind to my circumstances. I’ve prayed as though I need to remind Him of my plight, that maybe He missed the meeting where we discussed my life falling apart. My attitude in these moments has been equal parts “Where have You been?” and “What have You done for me lately?” Notice where the focus is. My “me” is asking God to explain Himself and to give an account as to His faithfulness. Talk about presumption and condescension. When I do this I’m forgetting that I am me and He is, well…God.

Forgetting that the One we are venting to is the One who created us is bad enough. But when we forget who we are talking to and abuse the “God is big enough to take it” privilege, I fear we sometimes relegate Him to an impenetrable steel diety. A divine punching bag who receives our verbal buffeting without emotion. As if we think God’s feelings cannot be hurt. Or worse, that He has no feelings at all.

To miss this is to miss God’s father heart for us. Follow God’s journey with His children from the beginning and we see Him as a Father who loves beyond reason, forgives without measure, blesses abundantly and relentlessly pursues us when we walk away. Even when we as fickle followers turn and take after gods that spell their name with a small “g”, God woos and pines and pleads with us to return to our first love that we might find our ultimate joy in Him.

The God of the universe has a heart. And of all His creation, we are the only ones who can break it.

Going forward, as we talk with God let’s remember Who we’re talking to. When we remember God’s holiness, it makes His love even more amazing. When we remember His justice, it makes His forgiveness even more incredible. Simply put, the best way to experience God fully is to worship Him wholly.

Do we remember Who we’re talking to?

“And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Savior’s blood? Died He for me, who caused His pain—For me, who Him to death pursued? Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me? Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?” – Charles Wesley

Todd A. Thompson – ASliceOfLifeToGo.com

They are still learning and don’t yet understand the importance of a soft touch. Emma had a two footer to finish out the first hole. At the top of her backswing I had to grab the club because her follow through would have driven the ball down the Superstition Freeway. Annie couldn’t get to the next hole fast enough. Hit the ball and run. Hit the ball and run. We had the best time together and they enjoyed figuring out the ramps and which door to hit their ball through.

It was getting to be about 7:30 and they were starting to fade so we stopped to come home. We weren’t done with the course but it didn’t matter. They were whining a little on the way out and weren’t acting as nicely as they could. Their behavior was nothing I had to discipline them for. It had been a long day for them and they were tired. I got them home for some food and a bath and bed.

In the middle of the night, maybe around 4 AM, I felt someone looking at me. Annie was standing there. She crawled in and snuggled up next to me, face to face.

“Daddy, I’m sorry that I quit golfing tonight.”

That didn’t sound like the real reason she was out here talking to me in the wee hours. I told her she didn’t quit, we just decided to come home.

Then she said, “Daddy, I’m sorry that I wasn’t very nice to you on the way home.”

So that’s it.

I told her it was ok. That she was tired and we all get cranky when we’re tired. I hugged her and told her how much I appreciated her apology. “It’s not easy to say you’re sorry, Annie. I’m very proud of you. Do you want to go back to bed now?”

She nodded.

“Are you ok?”

She smiled, “I’m ok.”

“I love you, Annie. So much.”

“I love you too so much.” And she trotted off to her room.

I learn from my kids all the time. Here’s what I learned from Annie at 4 in the morning.

Annie thought it was so important to make things right with me that she got up in the middle of the night to do it. It is a hard thing to come to someone and confess and apologize. I know that’s true for me. More often than not, our ego keeps us from saying the things we need to say to those we’ve hurt or offended. The longer we wait, the harder it gets.

That’s what the Bible means when it talks about “giving the devil a foothold.” When we let our conscience grow cold, we clear a spot for all the wrong things to grow in our heart. Hard feelings. Bitterness. Grudges. Resentment. Once those grow deep, pride becomes a ruthless gardener who is loathe to let them be uprooted.

Annie’s apology reminded me of another truth. When we care enough about the other person to say “I’m sorry” and make things right, we elevate and honor the relationship. Annie showed me in word and action that I was a person she cared about enough to talk about what was troubling her. And significant to me was how I felt when it was over. When she apologized for what she perceived was a hurtful thing she had done, I would have moved the world for her. I don’t know that I’ve ever been more proud of Annie. Because of the respect and honor she showed me, it makes me want to work even harder at being a better Dad. That single 60-second transparent moment deepened our relationship.

When we confess and apologize for the hurts we’ve caused, we:

Communicate a contrite heart that cares about making things right.

Communicate respect to the person and our relationship.

Communicate that the person is more important than our pride.

Communicate a desire to move forward in a healthy, restored way.

God, help us be people who care enough to say, “I’m sorry.”

“And be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” – Ephesians 4:32