“But what about boundaries?” 

My two friends looked at me quizzically from across the family room. In the midst of our conversation about the Prodigal Son story, I was frustrated. I had been working hard on relational boundaries in my own life and was beginning to see the fruits of them. In recent months, I had supported more than one friend through necessary marital separations and divorces.

“I just don’t see how we can always be like the father and have healthy relationships.” 

In her characteristic gentle, nonjudgmental tone, my friend Amanda responded, “I don’t think we are supposed to be like the father. I think the father represents God.” 

“But aren’t we supposed to be like God?” I retorted. 

Their perplexed expressions mark a moment when I realized two things: 1) I read bible stories as if they are instructions for how I am supposed to be (more faithful, less prideful, more courageous, or, in this case, infinitely grace-filled) and 2) There is another way.

It could be the felt-board Sunday School lessons of my past or simply the way my brain is wired, but I have always viewed the stories of Moses, Jonah, David, Mary, and Paul through the lens of how to be as a human more than of who God is. Of course, there is much to learn from the lives of my biblical heroes and heroines, but my problem is that when I search for instructions on how I am supposed to be, I may find them, but I miss something crucial: knowing God through scripture.

Ever since that Prodigal Son conversation, I do my best to read the bible differently. After studying a passage, I ask what God could be telling me about Himself based on what I have read. I keep a list of what I am learning: 

God’s plans are unpredictable.
God is just.
God wants to save us.
God wants us to know Him.

And a curious thing is happening: as I get to know God better, I am getting to know myself better, too.