Is Your God Too Small | Isaiah 40: 1-31

Well good morning church! It is so good to be back with you today. Let me begin by saying 2 things: #1—I will not be telling any parrot jokes. #2—I just want to say, “Thank you!”

Thank you to Mark and Austin for preaching on Sundays, thank you to our elders for giving our full time staff the gift of a sabbatical month each year, and thank you to all of you for praying for me, encouraging me, and loving my family so well.

August was a special month for us. It was filled with rest, joyful connection, and preparation for what lies ahead.

For the month, I really had one goal. It came from Philippians 3:10 where Paul just says, “I want to know Christ.”

That was the cry of my heart—just to spend time with the Lord. So I spent time with Him—in His Word, in His creation, in prayer, and through some great books. And I experienced some of the soul rest Jesus promises in Matthew 11 to those who come to Him.

Now, I know we took a break from our Acts series in August. We’ll jump back into Acts 9 next week. But today, I want to share something that the Lord impressed upon me during my time away.

So if you’ve got a Bible, go ahead and turn with me to Isaiah 40—if you don’t have one, no worries, grab one from the pew—it’s p___. Isaiah 40.

Earlier this summer, one of you mentioned how much you loved the Old Testament book of Isaiah— and so I thought I’d spend the month studying through that. And what a joy that has been.

Isaiah was a prophet who spoke God’s Word to the people of Judah—a message of both judgment and hope. Because of their idolatry and injustice, judgment and exile were coming. But God had not abandoned His promises. He would redeem His people and ultimately send a King from David’s line —we know Him as Jesus.

The first 39 chapters largely announce God’s judgment. Then in chapter 40—where we are today— the message turns toward hope.

And don’t miss this—the hope Isaiah offers isn’t anchored in changing circumstances. It’s anchored in the unchanging truth of who God is.

That’s why I’ve titled today’s message: Is your God too small?

That isn’t a condemnation. It’s the question the Lord kept bringing to my mind.

A. W. Tozer opened his incredible book The Knowledge of the Holy with this statement: “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

This may seem like an exaggeration but think about it:

If you think God is distant, you won’t pray with confidence.

If you think God is weak, fear will control you.

If you think He’s unreliable, you’ll try to control everything yourself.

Here’s the danger: our circumstances can become so large that God begins to seem small.

That was true for me. I know—at times—it’s true for you. And it was true for God’s people in Isaiah 40. Judgment through Assyria and exile in Babylon were closing in. Their circumstances were overwhelming.

So what does God give us? Not an explanation for everything we’ll experience. Not an answer to every question we have. Rather He gives us a revelation of Himself: “Here is your God!” [Isaiah 40:9]

That matters for us because what comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us—and those thoughts will drive how we respond to those overwhelming circumstances.

We often think peace will come when God explains each step of the plan or changes our circumstances. But God knows our deepest need is not first to understand everything around us. Our deepest need is to see Him clearly within every circumstance.

That’s where I want us to go today. If we are going to follow Him, we’ve got to let Him reveal to us who He is. Not our feelings, not our experiences, not our circumstances—but God—revealed to us in His word.

So here’s the map for where we’re headed today. Isaiah gives us three pictures of the God he wants us to see.

And the first one is this:

HERE IS THE GOD WHO COMES TO HIS PEOPLE [v1-11]

Isaiah 40 opens with an announcement: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” [Isaiah 40:1]

The Israelites would lose their homes, their security, and nearly everything that felt familiar. But judgment would not have the last word. Exile would not be the end of their story.

So, God tells Isaiah to speak comfort because He is coming for them.

So in v3-5 he says: A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

This is the language used when a procession was coming. Clear the road. Remove the obstacles. Prepare the way because the King is on His way.

Here’s the point: nothing will prevent God from reaching the people He has promised to redeem.

They may have wondered whether His promises had failed—you may be wondering the same thing —but v8 says, The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.

Listen, Leaders come and go. Headlines change by the hour. What feels secure today can be gone tomorrow. But God’s Word doesn’t change—what He promises, He will do.

That leads to the announcement in v9, Lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the towns of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’ And I love this—Isaiah gives us two pictures of how our God comes to us.

First, He comes as the King who rules.

v10 says, See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power,

and he rules with a mighty arm.

God is our sovereign King.

That means He has the absolute right and authority over everything He has made. Over governments, economies…from every major crisis filling our newsfeeds to every stubbed toe or belly ache—no person, no power, no event is beyond His authority.

Listen—God has never surrendered His throne. He has never called an emergency meeting or wondered how things happened the way they did.

Our circumstances may surprise us, but they never surprise Him. He is sovereign. And…

God is omnipotent—He is all-powerful. The “mighty arm” of the Lord is Isaiah’s way of saying God has unlimited power. God has never faced a task that was more than He could handle.

So the question is not, “Is God strong enough for this?” The question is, “Will we trust the strength He has?”

Because here’s what I know: some of us are carrying the world as though God handed us His job. We’re carrying our family, our work, our finances, our church—all of it on our shoulders. And then we wonder why we’re exhausted.

You were never meant to carry the world. You were meant to trust the One who does.

You are not sovereign. God is. You are not all-powerful. God is. And that’s not bad news—that’s freedom! You can finally put down what you were never strong enough to carry in the first place.

God comes to us as the king who rules. Then Isaiah gives us a second picture. God comes as the Shepherd who carries.

Look at v11 He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

Don’t miss this beautiful picture. The arm powerful enough to rule the universe is gentle enough to shepherd the lambs.

Look at the verbs: He tends. He gathers. He carries. He gently leads.

God does not despise our weaknesses. Instead, He responds to our weaknesses with tenderness. You may easily think of God as the all-powerful King, but do you see Him also as the tender Shepherd?

Some of us believe God loves strong Christians and merely tolerates struggling Christians. Praise God, that isn’t true. The Shepherd gathers His lambs precisely because we can’t carry ourselves.

Hear me—you may feel weak, but you are not a burden to God. You may feel exhausted, but you’ve not been abandoned. You may be unable to keep up, but your Shepherd knows how to carry you.

And this announcement points us to Jesus. Isaiah begins with a voice in the wilderness preparing the way for the Lord. Centuries later, the Gospels identify that voice as John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus.

Isaiah said, Your God is coming.

The Gospels announce, He has come.

The Sovereign King entered our wilderness in the person of Jesus Christ—The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

Then, at the cross, the Shepherd became the Lamb. The mighty arm of God was stretched out upon a cross to save sinners like you and me.

When you can’t reach Him, He comes to you.

When you can’t keep up, He carries you.

Here is your God—the King who rules and the Shepherd who carries.

And then Isaiah shows us something else.

HERE IS THE GOD WHO HAS NO EQUAL [v12-26]

Beginning in v12, Isaiah asks a series of questions:

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales

and the hills in a balance?

I mean—picture it. All the waters of the earth—the oceans, rivers, and lakes—God holds in the palm of His hand. The heavens stretch beyond anything we can comprehend, yet God marks them off between His thumb and His pinky. The mountains that tower over us? Tiny enough for Him to weigh on scales.

Isaiah’s not using scientific measurement here—by the way. God does’t have thumbs and pinkies. He’s just trying to show us that all of creation, unimaginably large to us, is minuscule compared to the Creator. He has no equal.

Then in v13 Isaiah asks another set of questions: Who can fathom the Spirit of the Lord, or instruct the Lord as his counselor?

What’s the answer? No one. No one ever taught God how to create. No one advises Him how to lead. God has never learned anything because there has never been anything He did not know.

And yet, we sometimes approach God as though we understand our lives better than He does. God, if You knew what I know, You would do this differently. God, if You understood what was going on down here, You would change it.

But here’s the truth—we don’t see the whole picture. God does. We see one small part of the story. God sees the beginning, the middle, and the end. He does not need our counsel. We need His wisdom.

Isaiah then turns to the nations.

v15 Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket;

they are regarded as dust on the scales.

And v23 adds, He brings princes to naught and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.

The nations that terrified God’s people were a drop in a bucket before Him. Maybe you have that same fear with all that we see going on around us today. These feelings aren’t new.

Babylon looked enormous from the streets of Jerusalem—but Babylon looks very different from the throne of heaven.

Everything becomes smaller when seen next to God.

God does not depend on anyone—no nation, no army, nor any human being. He is not strengthened by our success or weakened by our failure. He gives because He is generous, loves because He is love, and saves because He is gracious.

So Isaiah asks in v18 and 25, With whom, then, will you compare God? ‘Or who is my equal?’ says the Holy One.

God is holy—that word means “set apart.” He is morally perfect, completely separate from evil, infinitely exalted, and utterly unique. He is not merely the best being in the universe. He is in a category all by Himself. There is no one like Him.

So just know that every word we try to use to describe God will always come up lacking. There are no adequate words. There are no adequate comparisons. Our every attempt to frame God in a way that makes us feel like we’ve got a grasp of Him and His greatness, never ever comes close.

That’s why, in scripture, we see idolatry is such a serious sin. Idolatry is when we give any-thing or any-one the love and loyalty and trust that only God deserves. It’s replacing Him with something more manageable for us.

And an idol doesn’t have to be a statue—like we may picture in our minds from ancient times. Politics becomes an idol when we look to a party or candidate to save us and secure our future. Sports become an idol when a team’s success or a child’s performance determines our worth.

Approval becomes an idol when another person’s opinion has more power over us than God’s Word.

Comfort becomes an idol when we obey only as long as obedience costs us nothing.

Now, none of those things are inherently bad; many are gifts from God. But a good thing becomes an idol when it becomes the thing we cannot imagine living without—when we say, “If I have this, I’m good. If I lose it, my life will fall apart.”

So when God reveals an idol, He doesn’t tell us to manage it. He tells us to turn from it and trust Him. Because every idol will eventually fail us. Every idol is too small.

So Isaiah says in v26, 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.

Maybe it’s time to lift up your eyes.

The things that frighten us may be real, but they are not God. The things we trust may be powerful, but they have no power God has not permitted.

So think about this—what have you allowed to become God-sized in your life? A diagnosis? A financial threat? The death of a loved one? Someone else’s opinion? Your need to be in control?

Isaiah doesn’t say those things are imaginary. He says they are not God. Stop measuring God by the things your experiencing. Stop wondering if God knows or is able to act in the midst of your troubles.

Did you notice—God doesn’t shame His people for expressing their pain? But He also doesn’t allow their pain to define what is true about Him.

The God who perfectly oversees the stars has not lost sight of you. He knows the parts of your story you cannot explain—what happened, what was said, what was intended, what was lost, and what you need.

We have to trust who He is as He has revealed Himself to us. He has no substitute, He has no rival —no one is like Him. Here is your God—the Holy One who has no equal.

And then, lastly, Isaiah brings this great revelation of God directly into the pain of His people. HERE IS THE GOD WHO STRENGTHENS THE WEARY [v27-31]

Their circumstances said, God has forgotten you.

Look at v27, Why do you complain, Jacob? Why do you say, Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God’?

That is the language of pain. He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t understand. He’s forgotten me.

Have you ever felt that way?

God, do You see what this is doing to me?

Do You know how long I have waited?

Have You forgotten me?

Their circumstances said, God has forgotten you.

God’s word said, Not so fast.

Listen to v28–31: Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Everything around us is in constant flux, always changing. But God never does. He will never become less loving, less holy, less faithful, or less able to care for His people. He does not get tired, lose interest, or forget what He promised.

And did you notice what this tireless, everlasting God does with His strength? He gives it to the weary and the weak. Hallelujah! That’s me!

He says, those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. To hope in the Lord is to place our confidence, and our expectations, and our future—in Him.

It’s not pretending our circumstances don’t hurt. It’s putting the full weight of our lives on His character and His promises. It is refusing to run to idols or call God absent simply because we can’t see what He is doing. It is continuing in faithful obedience while we wait for Him to act.

And don’t miss this—not every season feels like flying. Some victories look like taking one more faithful step.

The promise isn’t that God’s people never become tired. The promise is that that tiredness will not have the final word.

Maybe today you’re not soaring. Maybe you’re not running. Maybe all you can do is walk. Isaiah says the everlasting God has enough strength—even for that next step.

We don’t hope in a God who is unknowable. In and through Jesus, we can know the God Isaiah is talking about.

He came to us in flesh. He entered into our suffering and, at the cross, He bore our sin. Then in the resurrection, He showed us that suffering…weakness…even death…will not have the final word.

So, when you feel overlooked, remember: your God sees you. When you feel unstable, remember: your God is everlasting. When you have nothing left, remember: your God gives strength to the weak.

CONCLUSION

So let’s go back to that original question today:

Is your God too small?

Heading into August, I didn’t think mine was. But through my time with Him, He helped me see that the circumstances surrounding me were shrinking my view of Him.

I was still doing ministry and saying true things, but underneath it all, I was carrying pressures as though everything depended on me.

The reason I’m sharing this with you today is because I’m confident this isn’t something unique to me.

So my prayer has been that God would meet each one of us, right here, right now with a word to remind us of who He is.

Isaiah’s message is not that our problems are imaginary. Israel’s enemies were real. Their losses were painful. Their future looked uncertain. And so, Isaiah doesn’t minimize trouble…he magnifies God.

In the same way, your circumstances may be bigger than you can handle, but they are not bigger than God.

Don’t measure God by what surrounds you. Measure what surrounds you by who God has revealed Himself to be.

Your burden may be beyond your strength, but it is not beyond His. Your future may be totally unknown, but it is fully known to the Lord. Your weakness may be undeniable, but so is His goodness.

So here is the one step I want us to take this week. It’s a step to let faith trump feelings. Here’s how I’m saying it: Name the burden. Name the truth. Take one step of trust.

Let me give you couple examples:

If the burden is anxiety about your finances. The truth is, “God is my provider.” Your step of trust might be praying before checking your account again, then making your next decision from faith rather than fear.

Maybe the burden is a situation you can’t control. The truth is, “God is sovereign.” Your step of trust might be releasing the outcome and just doing the next faithful thing He has given you to do.

Maybe the burden is exhaustion. The truth is, “God gives strength to the weary.” Your step of trust might be asking someone for help instead of pretending you’re fine.

Whatever it is that God reveals—don’t excuse it or try to manage it. Name it. Name the truth about God. Then put your trust back where it belongs.

Listen—Crossing family—lift up your eyes.

Every one of us needs to hear Isaiah’s announcement today: Here is your God!

Here is the King who comes with power and the Shepherd who carries His people close to His heart.

Here is the Creator no one can counsel,

the Lord no nation can threaten,

the Holy One no idol can replace.

Here is the everlasting God who sees you,

the tireless God who will never abandon you,

and the gracious God who supplies everything you need.

He comes to His people.

He has no equal.

And He gives strength to the weary.

Here is our God. And He is more than enough.