The term god is too imprecise to think about. 

Praise the LORD, my soul. LORD my God, you are very great; you are clothed with splendor and majesty. The LORD wraps himself in light as with a garment; he stretches out the heavens like a tent and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters. He makes the clouds his chariot and rides on the wings of the wind. He makes winds his messengers, flames of fire his servants. (Psalm 104:1-4)

I am seldom - perhaps never - precise.

My home is full of slightly crooked shelves.

I perpetually neglect financial detail.

My writing wanders, rather than show I mostly tell.

I am a dilettante.

Perhaps this is why I enjoy thinking about God.