In the Beginning
In the beginning, when the Spirit of God hovered over the waters , there was a space, a divine handĎs width of room, for the breath of God to fill.
One breath containing divine will, purpose and order would saturate the gap. Escaping quickly from the lips of The Spirit, the divine wind, packed with the genetic codes for love and drama, dove to the deepest depths of the waters to create foundations, rose to the ceiling of the space to establish joy and rapture, and skimmed the surface of the waters to deposit wonder and awe.
And when there was light it was good, because it gave eyes to wonder and awe. And when there was expanse between the waters, and it was good because it gave a home to the marvelous things coming; sun, sky, day and evening, and sea and earth. And when the Spirit spoke browns and greens and blues and yellows it was good because this act was the perfect preparation for the eyes of his greatest and most terrible creation yet.
And they came quickly on the sixth day of The Spiritís work within the space; galloping, lumbering, sliding, swimming, crawling and flying. The last to come walked proud and upright onto the scene covered with The Spiritís finest garment, eternal life. When she joined him paradise was complete. The Spirit rested, but the drama didnít.
From outside the space something was inserted, falling through the firmament like a fiery red bombshell, and exploding in to the lush green growth in one corner of the garden. Filled with the wonder of their new home creation didnít pay much attention to the sound of the crash, and hardly noticed the smoky haze enveloping the tops of their trees. Just another wonder on its way, they assumed.
They assumed correctly. In a few days he had them wandering to the only dangerous area in the space, and soon wandering out of their paradise, naked and ashamed. They wondered how they could be so stupid, while he danced on his belly to celebrate the new space he had created between creation and the creator.
But the Spirit wasnít done. He had a plan to close the gap again. This time, however, it would take longer than six days, and come not in a first breath, but a last gasp; not in a puff, but in a cry of victory.
During these long years our space has been violently shaken over and over during the war for its soul. Many have died in discouragement and unbelief, but a few have held the battle banner high in the struggle. Many of these heroes have died too, holding to promises yet unfilled, but sure to be kept. Creation groans even today in the convulsions of war, and for its day of victory and resurrection, for that one day the gap will close forever.
And one man, surviving the bloody tree and deathís dark dungeons, walks our space today, winning the war once soul at a time, closing the gap heart by heart. His breath hovers over the waters of decision, waiting to fill our space with the genetic codes for love and drama. How deep he dives, how high he ascends in each of our handís width of space depends on our will and willingness to be part of his creation again.
Do you feel the wind?
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