And it was so.
In the story of God speaking Creation into existence, every “Let there be…” is followed by an “And it was so.”
No reluctance. No resistance. Just the Word spoken, followed by the eager yielding of every atom to God’s good and perfect intention toward his Creation.
Now, in the long aftermath of the shattering of Creation in the Fall, my sanctification seems to occur at a snail’s pace.
I am often eager—in word, anyway—but slow to yield in deed as the potential costs of obedience loom larger in my imagination than the promise of a deeper drink from the Source of Life. Or perhaps eagerness gives way to weariness and frustration from trying achieve righteousness in my own strength.
Other times, I am yielding, but limp and lacking in heart, apathetic in doing what love demands for the sake of the One whose love made me.
These realities are hard to admit to myself, and are humiliating in the truest sense of the word—not embarrassing or a source of shame, but humbling and emptying of self, offering a right view of myself as one in need of mercy before a holy God.
Yet I can look on the condition of my heart with courage and without flinching, with full lamenting yet without despair, because I know that the same God who spoke the world into being in the beginning, is hovering even now over the unformed waters of my heart.
Oh, how I long for every part of my being to hear God’s words “Let there be…” spoken over me, and respond with joyful anticipation of the fulfillment of his perfect intention toward me.
I want his “Let there be…” to be met with my humble “Let it be unto me according to your word.”
I want my life to join with the rhythm of the Cosmos, singing his praise into eternity with a steady down beat of “And it was so.”
In the garden, God creates Adam and Eve in his own image. In his words of blessing to them and purpose imparted to them (Gen. 1), he introduces a new repeated phrase to the creation narrative: “I have given…”
In the moments where I am acutely aware of the distance between God’s re-creating word spoken over me and the embodiment of that reality in my life, I look to Jesus, the One who was blessed, broken, and given for the life of the world. His eager yielding to the perfect will of the Father is mine by the blood of his Cross.
“I have given.”
“I have given.”
“I have given.”
And it was so.