THE GOD WHO IMAGINED IMAGINATION
As a kid, I loved Legos. Not the elaborate kits we see today—the kind with detailed instructions and thousands of pieces to build an X-Wing or a Hogwarts Castle—but the simple, multicolored blocks that came in a big, jumbled box. I would dump the whole thing out onto the floor, and for hours, my imagination would run wild. I built spaceships and castles, cars and cities. No one handed me a blueprint; the joy was in dreaming up something new, something uniquely mine, and then bringing it to life with my hands. There was no limit to what I could create, no rulebook to constrain the possibilities.
Looking back, I see how those moments of childhood play reflected something far greater than I understood at the time. In my own small way, I was reflecting the nature of the God who made me. He is the ultimate Creator, the One who formed the universe not from building blocks but from nothing. His imagination is boundless, His creativity unmatched. He didn’t need a model or instructions. His Word alone brought light from darkness, order from chaos, and beauty from the void. And in an act of extraordinary generosity, He shared that creative essence with us, weaving it into the very fabric of our being. And then, as His crowning act, He created humanity—not just as observers of His work but as participants, partners in His ongoing story of creation. He shared His creativity with us, weaving His own image into our being. It’s no wonder we’re drawn to the act of creating, dreaming, and imagining. In those moments, we are reflecting the God who imagined us first.
But somewhere along the way, we lose touch with that wonder. Life narrows our vision. We trade our boundless childhood imagination for practicality, and slowly, our view of God shrinks. We box Him in, limiting Him to what feels safe, predictable, or manageable. We forget that He is the God who goes beyond—immeasurably, abundantly beyond—what we can ask, think, or imagine.
Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:20-21 invites us to reimagine who God is and what He can do: “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”
The phrase “immeasurably more” is translated from the Greek word ὑπερεκπερισσοῦ (huper ek perissou), a compound superlative that means “super-abundantly beyond.” Paul strains language to its limits, reaching for a way to describe a God who surpasses every human expectation. This is not a God who merely meets our needs or fulfills our requests on our terms. This is a God who exceeds, who overflows, who shatters the boundaries of what we think is possible. Paul roots this truth in the context of prayer, reminding us that God’s power is at work within us—not as a distant force but as an active, personal presence.
But what does this look like in real life? Scripture is filled with stories of God exceeding human imagination:
Noah never imagined becoming a refuge for creation until God told him to build an ark.
Abram and Sarai couldn’t fathom becoming parents to a nation when they were well past childbearing years.
Moses couldn’t picture leading an enslaved people to freedom until God called him from a burning bush.
The disciples couldn’t conceive of a Messiah who would conquer through sacrifice, tearing down the barriers between Jew and Gentile to create one family of faith.
Each story reveals a God who doesn’t just operate within human limitations but redefines them. His actions challenge our assumptions, stretch our understanding, and invite us to see Him as He truly is: boundless, creative, and infinitely good.
At the heart of God’s limitless nature is His creativity. In the opening chapters of Genesis, we see God not only creating but inviting humanity into the process. When He tasked Adam with naming the animals, He wasn’t delegating busywork. He was inviting Adam to exercise the creative impulse placed within him. Adam’s act of naming wasn’t just functional—it was relational, an act of partnership with God. This partnership is part of what it means to be made in God’s image. Creativity, imagination, and the ability to dream are gifts from God, woven into our being. They’re not just for artists or visionaries; they’re for anyone who bears the mark of the Creator—which means all of us. But more than simply reflecting God, our imagination is key to how we relate to Him. Faith itself requires imagination. It asks us to believe in a reality we cannot see, to trust in promises that have yet to be fulfilled. It invites us to dream with God, to imagine what could be when His power is at work in us and through us.
Yet spiritual imagination isn’t just about dreaming big. It’s about seeing the world through God’s eyes, reimagining what He can do in our lives, our churches, and our communities. It’s about being willing to step outside our comfort zones and trust that God’s plans are far greater than we could conceive on our own. Despite all this, we often limit our view of God. We box Him in, treating Him as though He operates within the same constraints we do. We pray small prayers and dream small dreams, and then we wonder why we struggle with feeling disillusioned. But maybe the issue isn’t that God isn’t meeting our expectations. Maybe the issue is that our expectations are too small.
Our disillusions and disappointments often reveal the narrowness of our faith. We expect God to act in predictable ways, and when He doesn’t, we assume He’s not working at all. But the God of Scripture rarely fits into neat categories. His ways are higher than our ways, His thoughts higher than our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). Our culture doesn’t help either. We live in a world (inside the church as well as outside) that values efficiency and control over curiosity and wonder. Technology has given us instant access to information, but in doing so, it has stifled our capacity for imagination. Studies show that children’s creativity declines as they spend more time on screens, but the same is true for adults. We’ve become so accustomed to having answers at our fingertips that we’ve lost the art of asking questions.
And yet, God invites us to ask questions—questions that, in many ways, serve as the ultimate spark for imagination. Throughout Scripture, He engages humanity not merely through commands but through inquiry. “Where are you?” He asks Adam and Eve in the garden. “Who do you say I am?” He asks the disciples. These questions aren’t about gathering information—He already knows the answers. Instead, they are invitations to deeper curiosity and faith, stretching our imagination and helping us see beyond our limited perspectives. If God is truly a God who goes beyond, what would it look like for us to embrace this truth?
What would it mean to open our hearts and minds to the limitless possibilities of life with Him? The journey of these posts is an invitation to do just that. As we move forward, we’ll explore what it means to reimagine how we see God, how we trust Him, and how we take Him at His word. We’ll examine the ways we’ve allowed our faith to shrink and the practices that can reignite our sense of wonder. We’ll look at how a renewed spiritual imagination can transform not only our personal lives but also the life of the church, calling us to dream bigger and expect more from a God who delights in exceeding our expectations.
But for now, the challenge is simple: make space for wonder. Allow yourself to dream again—not just about what God can do in your life but about who He is. Let go of the small, manageable version of God you’ve been holding onto and embrace the God who spoke galaxies into existence, the God who made the barren fruitful, the God who conquered death itself. This isn’t just an intellectual exercise; it’s a posture of the heart. It’s about cultivating a spirit of anticipation, a readiness to see God work in ways that surpass our understanding. It’s about daring to believe that the same God who parted seas and raised the dead is still at work today, inviting us to join Him in His unimaginably good plans.
So, as you continue reading, let this be a starting point. Let it stir a holy curiosity within you. Let it challenge you to reimagine your faith, your church, and your everyday life in light of who God is. And let it prepare you to dream with the God who goes beyond—immeasurably, abundantly beyond—all we can ask or imagine. Because the God who imagined imagination itself is still creating, still calling, still inviting. All we need to do is imagine.
