Imagine God in his royal study behind the desk that runs the cosmos. If he were like you and me, he would be intensely focused. He probably wouldn’t even notice us enter the room. From somewhere deep within, we muster up the courage to say something. Maybe we don’t even know what we’re saying, but we want his attention. So we stumble over our words. Eventually, something resembling a sentence comes out and he looks up. What now?

He’s a busy God. He has the universe to uphold, you know. But we’re not asking for much. Not really. I mean, we want a lot. We have requests. We want to see him. We want to be with him. But we understand. He’s so important, and we’re just us.

So we make our requests known quickly. We just spew it out. It doesn’t sound impressive because it’s not. And we don’t wait long enough to get an answer. We’re too scared, either afraid that it’ll be a no when we want a yes or afraid of his presence. Worst of all, maybe something else will come up we weren’t prepared for. He may, you know, actually say something to us. So we go on about our day and leave God to his work.

Is that the God you know? Too often, it’s the image that comes to my mind when I sit down to pray. I know he’s busy. I also know he cares. But the busy God outweighs the caring God. Perhaps that’s less a reflection on his business than my own. I have things to do. I need to get going. But God? Of course, he has a lot coming at him. Throughout the world, people are praying. The stars never stop shining. The universe never stops turning. Evil must be kept at bay. People need to be saved. How does he do it all?

This is the excellent greatness of God (Psalm 150:2). He is not limited as we are. I can do very little. He can do very much. I grow frustrated with interruptions because I can’t multitask, no matter how many times I tell myself I can. When my kids visit my study as I’m hard at work, I grow impatient and frustrated. I will answer their questions when I’m done. How will my world keep spinning if I take a break?

But God’s world spins, and it doesn’t come at our expense. He does not have to delay our interaction. He can do it all.

As we enter that royal study where the universe is upheld by his very word, we find not a distracted Father too busy for us. No, he smiles when we come in. He’s happy to see us because Jesus has paid our entry fee. We can come boldly, as a child, because by Christ’s blood we’ve been given that right (John 1:12). He gets out of his chair and bends down to pick us up. He listens to the rambling stories and disconnected thoughts. He bears with our weakness because he knows we are but dust. He takes his time with us. He lets us linger. He’s not worried about the wars and rumors of war rising in the background. He’s in control of that even as he speaks with us. He’s able to be everywhere all the time. He’s at every point in history as if it were the present. He’s over it all and above it all but not disconnected from it all. He cares on a level we cannot because we cannot see what he can. His capacity for trouble outweighs ours. His endurance is limitless. His stamina never fades. God can, at the same time, sit us in his lap and hear our prayers while hearing the prayers of all the saints throughout the world, receive praises from all on earth and those in heaven, and oversee the smallest detail in the most hidden corner of space.

God’s excellent greatness is that he’s not too great for you. He’s never too busy. He always has time. And nothing ever goes against his perfect plan. Who God is for you is all you need him to be at every moment of your life. He’s not too great for you; his greatness is for you.

Editor’s Note: This originally published at Things of the Sort.