naked i came into the world and naked i will depart. this world welcomed me and soon it will see me off. naked i came, naked i’ll leave.
when i reflect on this simple truth, it’s hard to maintain a constitution of individual rights and fair play.
i am dust.
when the wind blows, dust is displaced; when the rains fall, dust becomes mud; beneath the sun, mud is hardened into clods; and under trampling feet, earth clods crumble and return to dust.
dust has the ‘right’ to be displaced, altered, hardened, trampled, and to begin the process anew.
i am a simple lump of clay, molded into His image, infused with breathe and with spirit. opportunities to experience love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness are fruits of His creativity—I have no right to these apart from Him.
my life was bought at a price. an unfathomable, heart-wrenching, cosmically baffling act of love purchased me from death and availed communion with Life. i am animate dust and an heir of Life:
Prince Pinocchio.
if anyone had a right to a prosperous future, Abraham would be the man. when Creator God decides to name you the father of a great nation, a father you will be—end of discussion. there is no one on earth or under the earth that can tamper with that promise.
so fancy yourself this father, and Isaac, your son. you and your son are on a hike. father and son, a packed donkey, and a couple of young working hands, touring the land of Moriah, and you, the father, will get to throw the match on an only-begotten-bonfire.
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quick tangent:
ever played ‘would you rather…’? would you rather be: Job, a man of God who has his family, fortune, and body utterly ravaged by the evil one—or—Abraham, trekking the countryside with your beloved son, and the whole excursion you are wondering what it will be like to watch your son bake on the altar of God’s promise…
well, which scenario would you choose??
i would rather just read about those stories, thank you. i mean, hadn’t God read the U.S. constitution? what ever happened to an individual’s unalienable rights?
life,
liberty,
the pursuit of happiness???
these men weren’t American apparently.
probably a good thing, too. had they been, i could see them calling a meeting with God at Starbucks, bringing their lawyers along (of course), and serving God legal complaints of injustice over a hot beverage. i could imagine God perusing the documents for a moment before looking over his vanilla chai latte at these jokers—seeing not two men, but elaborate piles of dust. two rich piles of dust with two other rich piles of dust (but these two piles have degrees in law); and on the other side of the table, the Alpha and Omega. and bearing witness on His behalf: the breadth of creation. yeah… that would be a rowdy meeting.
ok, end tangent.
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so there you are, in the land of Moriah—you and Isaac, and it’s the worst day of your life. Isaac is laying on his back, staring at the object exalted in your hand; and you, quivering beside the altar, are ready to plunge a knife into your son—him, your beloved son and heir of everything you have been promised. at the moment, you feel less significant than a lump of clay, peering down at your son, your blood boiling at the thought of your hopes and dreams being consumed on this altar.
was Abraham the promised father of a great nation?
yes.
was Abraham to have descendants as countless as the world’s grains of sand?
yes.
did Abraham have a the right to question God’s goodness and faithfulness that day in the clefts of Moriah?
apparently not.
apparently a covenant with God didn’t give Abraham the right to doubt His goodness— even if it meant the slaying of His own son.
naked we came into the world and naked we will depart.
there are times in life that feel like crawling and clawing our way through a tunnel, and we spend most of the time wondering how life could get any worse than the present circumstances. tomorrow shows no sign of relent, for we’ve learned that the worse of today usually becomes tomorrow’s norm. restlessness is your anthem, food has lost its savor, and crawling under the covers at night is just a little colder than you would prefer. most of us can relate to life in this tunnel.
maybe before we begin to evaluate our present tunnel-peril, we should consider the dirt on our knees and the dust under our fingernails. if the stains and the grime could speak to us in those tunnel-moments, what wisdom would be imparted to us?
maybe…
(dust under our fingernails):
“He didn’t have to breathe life into you. He could have left you as i am. but He didn’t. He loves you… you have no idea how profoundly He loves you!
“yes: the journey can be daunting.
yes: you will grieve your time in the tunnels.
yes: following Him will appear foolish at times.
“His children have been led into floods and furnaces, my friend, and presently you find yourself crawling down this tunnel. but be reminded that this is a temporary tunnel—a cranny of the valley of the shadow of death. but your present demise isn’t the last word. the Word endured the demise and overcame it. remember?! a day is coming when tunnels will collapse under the weight of glory, when valleys of death will flood with Living Water.
“but for now, remember your origins, my friend. dust has no right to glory. that you see light at all is a miracle, and that you have partaken of love and joy and peace is a profound blessing. the angels themselves do not understand it.
“so in this present darkness, be reminded of your origins, and revel in the pin pricks of light, for these are rumors of your destiny.”
fellow travelers: the darkness we encounter in these tunnels is not the final word. yet in the tunnels, we seek for light—any promise of an end to the turmoil—but to no avail, or at least never in the timing we would prefer.
this is not the life He meant for us. tunnel-life is not the end game.
the cross tells us that Hope has known this very tunnel, and by His Spirit He is crawling beside us. but we have not the eyes to see the ever-present One (yet).
could it be that tunnels are the painfully appropriate classrooms wherein we learn to plead for Wisdom and the ability to recognize the presence of Light? once Light begins to overcome the tunnels of our life, what of existence under the sun?! it would be a tragedy to be under the sun your whole life, yet perceive only darkness. Solomon knows what i’m talking about.
so maybe we find ourselves in tunnels that we may be able to ascertain Light.
the journey from mere dust-hood to glorious Bride-hood is one hell of a journey. the journey through the valley of the shadow of death is brutal and wearisome, but our destination is a bright country and life eternal with our Faithful Groom.
take a quick moment to read James 1:2—18 from the perspective of your tunnel…
the Father of lights is Faithful… His presence in caverns of darkness transforms them into sanctuaries of Light. in Him there is no variation… no shadows… ever.
beloved:
the Light will find you in the tunnel.
