Plastic God

Plastic gods are safe. Plastic gods don’t mess with you.



I was the type to play along. I wasn’t faking; I just lived in a place that issued scripts. Everyone took theirs and played it. Mine was handed to me, and I played it as sincerely as I could . . . It wasn’t fake; it was just my normal. I was a good girl, from a good family and a good church and a good school, who made good grades and had good friends and made good decisions and even had a good dog. I was a good Christian. I mean, I should have been— I had heard the stories, songs, and lessons 7,338 times. It’s what I knew. But God? I don’t remember God, the real God, being there. He probably was. But I just didn’t see him— till I did. You can’t control seeing God. That is left to his own discretion— how or when people really see, really get him. But I needed God to not be plastic before I trusted him, especially with everything. Plastic gods are safe. Plastic gods don’t mess with you. Plastic gods don’t matter much; they fit in a small crevice of the life you want, the life you were planning to have. And when everything in life is working . . . plastic gods feel like enough.


Allen, Jennie (2012-04-03). Anything: The Prayer That Unlocked My God and My Soul (p. 5). Thomas Nelson. Kindle Edition.


I am reading Anything by Jennie Allen. I am praying that it will be a game-changer in my life. I feel stale. Stagnant. I need God. I want to fully trust Him with my anything. My everything. But this is scary. What if I can’t fully trust? What if I am too blinded by myself and my selfish needs that I don’t see what He is showing me or don’t hear what He is telling me? Or worse what if what He wants from me is too big or too much and I refuse Him? I don’t want to refuse Him. What if I misread the signs and don’t realize I have refused Him until it is too late? I am afraid of what He might want from me.