The Problem with a One-Sided God

Read

Isaiah 40:25–26 "To whom will you compare me? Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing."

Think

Have you ever judged a movie just by watching the trailer? It looks hilarious or powerful, but once you're in the theater, you realize all the best moments were packed into two minutes. The rest falls flat because you never got the full story—just a highlight reel.

That’s how many of us relate to God.

We know his “trailer moments.” A trait here. A verse there. An experience we once had. We carry around snapshots of who God is, and without realizing it, we start building our entire faith around those fragments.

God is love.
God is powerful.
God is near.
God is just.

All true. But none of them are complete on their own.

Think of it like a photo album. Imagine someone looks at three random pictures of your life—a smiling wedding photo, a tired face on a red-eye flight, and a blurry selfie with friends—and then claims to know you. You’d laugh. Because a few moments don’t tell the full story. They’re real, but they’re not the whole you.

This is what happens when we worship a one-sided God. We take something true and treat it like the full truth. But a one-dimensional God cannot save, sustain, or satisfy. He becomes flimsy, frustrating, and false. And when life gets complicated, so does our trust.

Sometimes we shrink God into the comforting version. He’s the Father who loves us unconditionally, but we don’t want to hear about his holiness. It’s like only reading the fun pages of a novel and skipping every moment of tension or growth.

Other times, we lean hard into the disciplined version. We emphasize obedience, truth, and judgment but forget his patience and kindness. We start relating to God like a strict school principal instead of a gracious Father.

We do this because it feels easier. Easier to trust a version we can predict. Easier to shape our theology around what we’ve experienced instead of who God actually is.

But that’s not real relationship. That’s reduction.

Isaiah 40 confronts this directly. God says, “To whom will you compare me? Who is my equal?” It’s not just a rhetorical flourish—it’s a rebuke. There is no one else like him. You can’t put him in the same category as anyone else. He brings out the stars and knows them by name. That’s power, but it’s also intimacy. That’s what real God-knowledge holds in tension—his majesty and his closeness. His justice and his mercy. His nearness and his transcendence.

We want a God we can define. But he’s not a personality type. He’s not a vibe. He’s not an aesthetic. You can’t lock him in with one verse on a coffee mug or one trait on a sermon slide. You can’t reduce him to how he felt during your last worship experience.

Trying to follow God based on a partial view is like navigating with a broken GPS. You might get somewhere eventually, but you’ll make a lot of wrong turns. And when God leads you somewhere unexpected, you’ll question him—when the problem isn’t his direction. It’s your limited understanding of who he is.

The real danger of a one-sided God is that it leads to one-sided faith. If God is only comfort, then you’ll feel abandoned when he disciplines you. If God is only justice, then you’ll hide in shame when you mess up. If God is only provision, then you’ll doubt his presence when you're in lack.

But God is not one-sided. He is a mosaic. A symphony. A full sky of stars, each one revealing something of his heart. You can’t know him all at once, but you can know him more every day.

And when you do, something shifts. Your trust deepens. Your worship widens. Your confidence strengthens. You stop reacting to life like God disappeared just because something went wrong. You begin to rest in the mystery instead of fearing it.

Think about it like this: imagine trying to capture the Grand Canyon on a postcard. You can’t. The moment is real, but it’s not complete. Knowing God through a favorite worship song or a familiar devotional is good—but it’s just a start. The goal isn’t to stay in the shallow end. The goal is to wade deeper into who he actually is.

You will never grasp all of God, but you can stop settling for the sliver you’ve been holding on to.

Let Scripture round out your view. Let obedience lead you into parts of his character you haven’t experienced yet. Let hardship introduce you to his comfort. Let conviction show you his mercy. Let time build a fuller picture.

Because God does not want to stay small. He wants to be known. Not in part, but in fullness.

Apply

What part of God have you been focusing on lately? Has it become the only part you relate to? Ask God to stretch your understanding. Open Scripture to a passage you usually avoid or don’t know well. Let it surprise you. Let it challenge the image of God you’ve been carrying. God is not asking you to figure him out. He’s inviting you to know him more.

Pray

God, I don’t want to settle for a partial version of you. Show me where I’ve reduced you to what feels comfortable or familiar. Help me experience more of your fullness. Expand my view. Deepen my trust. I want to know the real you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.