The Word that Altered Forever

In the beginning, that Word was spoken.

And galaxies spun. Butterflies flashed color in a world void of those hues only moments ago. The first smile. The first roar. The first shooting star.

It was like a song, everything dancing to its tune, the Word that began life intricate.

When darkness and light first twirled together, when sounds twisted in harmonies, when smells erupted from a new earth, the aromas of moist soil and budding flowers and soft fur. And with it, laughter, a melody all in itself.

But sometimes I forget, the Word didn't only start life, it continues too.

I see glimpses of it in every day. The force beyond myself, something deep stirring, flowing, gathering up like mountains of water.

A breath - when I hear the popping of canning jars, sealing by some hand beyond my own.

A sound - when plants peek their heads above soil, fruits full of juice that appear on the branches, in the bushes, and it's because of something deeper than us. The corn tassels, golden brown, and vegetables that litter our countertop, and it's all because of that Word.

An echo - tiny miracles, like a littering of tadpoles in the watering trough, like that lone minnow found all alone in the creek, and yet even those are known and taken care of by His hand.

Sunflowers first in bloom in this beautiful July sunshine, and they rotate and follow the rays. And somehow, as I slip out of bed earlier than the others, I find that hint of sun on the edge of the horizon, and I watch it tickle the grass for the first time that day. Noon makes sweat line my lips, and my hair sticks to my skin. As the day cools, I still see light, falling away in the west, and clouds are pink and soft and bubbly.

I want to be like the sunflowers, following the rays, seeing the Word all around me.

When noon comes, and I sweat and grow hot and forget the morning's glory, I want to keep my face up like those flowers, sink my roots deep, listen for His music.

There's beauty to be found. Always. 

Jesus was the Word, and He is, still. He set the world in motion, the stars in place, and He still holds today.

And deep inside, I pray that Word, Jesus, settles in, becomes the entity of who I am. That the force that established the heavens is my simple heart melody, the steps that I take. That my lips repeat His song, that I see His works all around me.

So I'll awake with the sunrise, savor the first stars and that planet that tinges the horizon. I'll think of Him as I slip through the gardens, nibble on the blackberry's tart juice, stand under spotted shade as I fill the cows' trough, see tadpoles.

And remember that it's a relationship. It's me and Him, us. That's the beauty.

The Word is everything.

And I'll sing His song.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made.  In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

- John 1:1-5

 

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life—the life was manifested... we write to you that your joy may be full.

- 1 John 1:-2, 4

 

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