Upbringing has something to do with it. I wasn't raised to believe anything, and as a result, I explore.
As for personality issues, I am an avid writer and reader, so you imagine that I look at God this way:
God is the undefinable force of love that lives beyond us and binds us together. He's a big fan of irony, and has the most amazing plot twists up his sleeve. But "God wears a Geth cape," Geth being from Obert Skye's Leven Thumps series, meaning He's already told you not to worry about it... more than once...

Extremely rational and deeply intellectual....I picture God spending countless hours (literally countless, the whole eternal/outside of time thing :P) pondering how to answer our prayers, and what trials to send our ways, etc. etc.

I agree with Sheepthatsblack. I think how your father treated you is how you identify God. After all, isn't he supposed to be the ULTIMATE father?

I grew up without my father. So the bible and God's people have helped develop how I view God.

When I was little someone, I do not remember who, told me that God loved me. That God was watching over me. That helped tremendously.

 However, when I reached adulthood? Well I identified God with how his people acted towards me.After all God's people are supposed to be representative of him, right?Because God's people haven't always been nice to me i.e. judgmental and performance based I came to believe God followed the same criterion.In the lowest parts of my life there was always some Christian there to act the part of Job's friends.
 Add to that that most of my pastors have preached that God has favorites replete with examples from the bible..and yeah. I grew into adulthood with a God ready to curse me at the slightest provocation.


I just spent these last years believing that God hated me. Yet, ironically, even as I believed in my heart of hearts that I was rejected of God I also was very aware I couldn't escape him!

That's why I seek Him out now..because he chased me down in so many ways. I wish I could explain it but it really was so.
Why would God reach out to someone He hated and cursed? Unless he is a 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer' God. Which I pray, and I am going to choose to believe, isn't true!

I think the biggest attribute I associate with God, esp. as influenced on my upbringing and childhood experiences, is of a life-changer who could control and affect all things.  When I was young, my dad, who in his childhood and young adult life had led a pretty sinful life, from associating with some pretty seedy folk to dealing with an addiction to alcohol, was saved and shortly thereafter called to preach.  Going from someone fiercely reliant on self to yielding to God was a remarkable change.  The fact that I'm alive to type this - being born perfectly healthy to parents who were assured by doctors after losing two children that any child they had would either be stillborn or would die in infancy - speaks volumes to me of God's infinite power and His control in and ability to change any situation.  My mom, who from beginning to end led as hard a life as anyone I've ever known, kept her faith in God and always taught me that my faith and trust should be in Him, who always is in control and watching over us.

I had been raised in a very disfunctional abusive home.  I believe I wasn't good enough, so God wouldn't love me no matter what.  I would never live up to His standards or I would continue to be the screw up I had been told I was.

What I found many years later, adult for that matter, I found that God doesn't expect me meet His standard.  He expects me to fail.  He doesn't view me as perfect.  That is why He provided His One and Only Son!  His blood covers my imperfections to make we beautiful in His sight.

God is everything originally posted, but He is so much more.  He is a Father who loves me unconditionally and helps me to become the person He knows I can be.

How do I love my Father!

Well dah! Religion is a cultural choice so if your Mom and Dad are Christian you are FAR more likely to find the same God they did.

When I was saved it was the first time I understood real love and unconditional love.  I also learned a sense of right and wrong based on what was good for me. 

I was brought up that there was really no black or white, just gray and no right or wrong, except when it was anything I did, which was ALWAYS wrong.

My father was abusive so to learn of a father who loved and cared for me was very appealing and spoke to my heart.

I grew up to view God as very Holy, yet distant...way up there.  I've also been through a lot of similar experience to yours in equating God with performance, standards, and seeing me in falling short of all of that a lot of the time. 

I think the reason that we don't really believe that God loves us is that we don't really love ourselves.  Look at how many negative thoughts you have of yourself verses good thoughts.  It's easy to become over-religious and say, "well if you thought good things about yourself then that's not being humble...and you're just a sinner saved by grace so don't expect too much of yourself."  Those aren't God's thoughts. 

I don't really think that's the Kingdom that Jesus has conferred upon us.  God thinks good thoughts about you, why shouldn't you? 

If the thoughts that you have, and the thoughts that you think God has regarding you DO NOT BRING LIFE to your dry bones, then it's not God (Jesus is Life) and it's not the Kingdom.  So much of our Christian subculture believes in humility, but not unto the truth.  The subculture equates humility with denial that there is anything good in us at all.

However, the truth is that if you are of God, hidden in Christ (Col. 3), one with Him (Jn 14 & 15), then you're completely good even when you sin (because it's not really you that's sinning, but sin in you [Rom 6]).  I think humility can not be more true than to say that I am awesome because in the Spirit, I'm one with the Father, hidden in Christ, accepted as a son, and He thinks thoughts even greater than that about me.  He does you too.  True humility is acknowledging the truth, rather than submitting under the yoke of a life-draining lie.  Basically, if it doesn't bring Life, then it's not God.  This includes mine and yours performance mindset. 

There is a place in the Spirit, where everything that God says to you makes you incredibly happy.  (I don't think a lot of people will accept that)  How do you know He's speaking?  It brings Life.  How do you know you're hearing a lie from the enemy, it doesn't bring Life. 

My Parents did a good job of showing me what God was like in their daily lives.  Dad and Mom were both loving, but disciplining when the need arose (and with me, it arose often!!!!).  Sometimes that discipline was hard, sometimes it was the hardworking kind, where Dad taught my brother and me not to quit until the job was done, even if it took all day and half the night.  Sometimes we were given tasks that seemed insurmountable, but, because Dad was there, we got it done.  Dad taught us how to take a break, even in the midst of hard work, in the hottest of Kentucky Summers, in the most humid of a Kentucky June Afternoon, and the most bug-filled Evening of a Kentucky August.  Despite the hard work (my Dad, my brother, and I, all in one day, tore down 90% of a house), there wasn't a job that we all started together that we didn't finish.  And if Mom and Dad left my brother and me a task, and we didn't get it done and, instead, were found loafing, we heard about it!  Yet when we did a good job, did good work, and got the job done well, and ahead of expectations, we heard about that too!  And Dad was there to pray with us at the end of the day, ready to help us find the throne and the Saviour.  It was at Dad's knee at the age of Seven, one sticky, hot, Summer Evening in Kentucky that Dad introduced me to the Saviour, and helped me find the Bestest Friend and Saviour anyone could ever have.  It was Dad who was there, as Dad and Pastor, when I was Baptized by him in a metal horse trough (because our church was too small for a batistry) at 18, just days before shipping off to college. It was Dad's shadow in Kansas City International airport that I saw -- his sillouhette -- the day I left the USA to begin as missionary and servant of the LORD ten years ago the end of this month.  Dad was the camp sports director, wearing the polka-dot engineer's hat so the children would know him at camp.

As for Mom, she was there with the meals, there with the tenderness if and when we got into scrapes, and with a song in her heart and on her lips during the darkest of times.  It seems as though when the days are the hardest for Mom, she sang the most, from the depths of the soul that the darkness could not touch, that the enemy's clouds could not obscure, and the place where the enemy had no place.  It was Mom who always bit her tongue, and dropped her anger, despite the harsh gossip and criticism the ladies in Dad's Churches leveled at him day to day, and week to week.  It was Mom who, when Dad needed a helper, was always there to take n yet another unwanted role at the church.  It was Mom who loved the children through Children's Church, teaching me and laying the foundation of what it meant to love children, and not just to teach them a Bible lesson.  It was Mom who made the Bible Lessons come alive through the flannelboards, through the puppets, through the Sunday School Book, as the children sat around in awe of her words.  It was Mom who, year after year, Summer after Summer, took on the role of Vacation Bible School Director, working endless hours on this program plan or that class makeup.  It was Mom who, after the hard, hot days of recreation were over, who brought out the cookies and kool-aide, and who was ready to give a second cup to a neighborhood child who had never had kool-aide before, and who -- before coming to VBS -- never knew nor heard of the Jesus Christ she helped to teach about.  It was Mom's loving hand helping my brother and me to get well, willing to spend the day away from the work she loved most, to care for us.  It was mom who cried at Senior Nights in Football and basketball, at Graduations, and at the times I had to leave and go back to the field.  It was Mom who left a hidden gift or a secret note in a bag or compartment that brought a river of tears and a note of joy.  Mom was also the camp nurse at Church Camp, not only loving the Students, but helping them in their hurts as well.

And it is still Mom and Dad.  At the college football games, traveling 8 and 12 hours to see their sons compete.  It was Mom and Dad who always had a welcoming smile and a warm hug during vacation days and break times from school.  It was Mom and Dad who willingly woke up, despite the hour and tomorrow's work, to listen and love and advise and pray.  It is Mom and Dad who do these thing still.  It is Mom and Dad who pray while my Lady and I listen over the phone; it is mom and Dad who send the notes of encouragement and the news from Home; it is Mom and Dad who offer us a place if things go sour here and we must head back to the States.  It is Mom and Dad who have welcomed and waited and hugged and listened and talked all of those visits home.  It was Mom and Dad first who welcomed my Lady Reina Jihye into the family, no questions asked, no demands made, and no precognitions formed.

When I think of God, I think of all of this.  When I think of the tasks before me, the work that is to be done, daunting as it is, I think it impossible at times.......but then I remember:  Heavenly Dad is here, and he's working too, just like  earthly Dad was so many years ago.  When I think of the children's classes that I must teach, sometimes I think nothing but black walls and blank ideas.....but then, God will bring along an Idea that Mom used years ago.  Yes, when I think of God, it is easy for me to picture him because of the Godly and Jesus Christ loving parents he gave me, or rather, that he gave me to.

And when I think of leaving this earth, and moving on to heaven, I, again, think of Mom and Dad.  The days in the Kentucky Heat and Humidity were no joke!  Sometimes the job Dad and Mom gave me was tough, hard, and daunting.  It required a lot of time, and often, Mom and Dad were required to work in a different area.  I remember more than once, at the property in Western Kentucky that mom and Dad owned, or in the Summer Camp Kitchen where mom was the head cook, doing a tough job, which, really, I didn't want to do in the first place.  But, I remember sticking with it, and, when the job was done, and the workday over, sometimes it happened by surprise, Dad walking up and saying, "Good job today, Son.  That's enough for today.  Come on over to the porch.  You Mother's got some lemonade waitin'.  dinner will be ready in awhile"  Sometimes he'd call out after watching for a time.  sometimes he'd tap me on the shoulder.  Either way, with my older brother, we'd walk over to the porch, take a seat, and watch as the sun sat, sipping the lemonade, or a tall, cold glass of Kentucky sweet tea, talking about the day's work, Dad telling my brother and me that we did a good job, and how much better it all looks after the work for the day is over.  We never noticed the finished job, and the good looking finish to the property until we sat on the porch, cold, cold glass of tea or lemonade in hand, hearing Dad praise us and the Lord for the job well done, as mom put the finishing touches on supper, ready to relax the rest of the evening, and, quite often to my brother and my surprise, the rest of the week.  Sometimes an old friend would show up, and comment on the work, and Dad would invite him to dinner.  That's how I imagine my Heavenly Father coming to let me know my work here on Earth is finished.  It'll be at the end of a hard, hard day, maybe as a group of rowdy, rambunctious, beautiful students have left for the day, or the semester, or the school year.  The Holy Ghost will walk up, and whisper in my ear, "That's enough for today, Son.  you've done a good job!  Come on over to the porch, and have a tall glass of lemonade.  Dinner will be ready in a few.  Your seat is ready on the porch".  And with a tap on the shoulder, I'll go with him.  We'll walk over to that Heavenly Porch, and sit, rest, and relax awhile, and talk with the Heavenly Father about the day's work.  Maybe we'll sip that heavenly tea or lemonade, and watch the sun set on time, on the earth, and talk and marvel at how much better the place looks, thanks to the hard day's work.  And maybe I won't notice how good it truly does look until just then, sitting on the back porch of heaven with my Heavenly Father, sipping a glass of ice, cold lemonade, and talking about the work that was done, with Jesus, putting the finishing touches on the eternal supper, ready for eternity to begin, and, maybe to my surprise, seeing some old friends come along to that porch as well, the Lord inviting him to dinner as well...

Hi, misshibiscus! I actually did re-publish this on my own xanga site (http://www.xanga.com/JandJinJapan/668937239/item.html), but referenced this one.  Thank you for the kind words, and blessings to you today!!!!

I was raised by Christian Science parents. C.S. is sort of a Christian interpretation of Buddhism. From that I spent some years believing myself to be Buddhist, sort of mystically atheist- there is no God, just being and non-being and being isn't real. I drifted then into apathy and at a certain age began to understand that there was something out there that I needed to know about. I chanced to meet a Vietnamese  Catholic priest in Florida who took me on to help him with his English. I converted, and have been content from then.

i think i'd answer this question very generally.  the perspective of all things are in accordance to the ways we were raised.  however, i think that ultimately that GOD has a ton of traits and everyone sees them, knows them, but certain traits are acknowledged more often than others in accordance to the way their perspectives were adjusted through life and whatnot.

I think upbringing has a lot of effects on how I view God. My mom was a Catholic, baptized and all, but grew up not really getting into it, so as an adult, religion wasn't a factor in her life. My dad's family is Buddhist and he grew up the same as my mom, without much interest or care. My older sister is extremely athiest, and she has a ton of influence on me.

However, all my friends are Christian and they urged me to go to church. It kinda pushed me towards religion but not really, because the ultimate influence on me is my family. Therefore, I'm agnostic. Not really even, my whole family doesn't factor religion daily lives, so I dont really have an opinion.