Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

A contented sigh crossed God’s smiling lips as He listened to the sounds of nocturnal animals and insects going about their business. The sun was dipping behind the western horizon. Day six had come to a close. He had spent them meticulously planning and busily creating, making perfection for the humans into whom He had just breathed the breath of life. Gone was the shapeless, empty darkness with which He had started. Light had driven away darkness. Flora and fauna had edged out the emptiness. The earth overflowed with life and beauty. It had been an incredible journey. One He hadn’t wanted to rush. He could have. God could have done it all in one day, one second, with just the sound of His voice. He didn’t. The artist in Him chose to do it slowly, carefully. So He had. And now it was finished. Day six was done. Land and sky were in place. Water flowed in all the right places. Plants and trees thrived. Birds sang. Fish swam. Animals frolicked. People lived. His smile widened at the thought and sight. People lived. (Genesis 1) 

They were the crowning jewel of His creation. Not because they were the most beautiful, colorful, or eye-catching. No. There were plenty of things with those characteristics. Humanity, not so much. Humans were special because God literally created them. With His hands. Taking dust from the ground, He fastidiously bent and twisted, formed and sculpted every part of the human body. Internal organs. External features. Hair. Ears. Mouth. Nose. When the perfect human form was created, God came near. So near. He lowered Himself to that lifeless form and breathed the breath of life into man’s nostrils. His breath. God’s breath. Man’s life. (Genesis 2:7)

One would think, as we picture God, relaxing in His rocking chair on Heaven’s front porch, gazing out over His creation, that His work was done. There was nothing left to do. Creation was finished. It was day seven. A day of rest. A day that would be marked as a commanded day of respite until the end of time. But Monday was coming. God’s work wasn’t done the moment He finished outfitting the world with all its life-sustaining necessities. His task wasn’t complete when He spun the globe into space. There would be more to do. More creating. More re-creating. God would spend every day of every century of time going through the same steps He had just completed. Not on a planet flung into space. In the hearts and lives of humanity. 

In the ensuing centuries, God has never quit creating. And re-creating. He has never stopped making something out of nothing. His Spirit still hovers over the darkened waters that fill and trouble our empty souls. In grace and mercy, He sends His light to pierce our darkness, offering us the opportunity to live in the vibrancy of His presence. He calls us to separate ourselves from the darkness of the world. A complete separation. Like the space between the earth and sky, the line between dry land and ocean waves. Make a definitive space between our souls and the tug of earth’s attractions. Like the line of ocean waters on sandy beaches, we are asked to make a delineating line over which we cannot be pulled back into the darkness of sin. Be separate. Be devoted to Him alone. (I John 2:15-17; Ephesians 5:11; I Peter 2:9; II Corinthians 5:17; Job 38:11)

There, in that space created for Him alone, God plants the seeds of righteousness and holiness. Seeds that will grow and spread and produce in our lives the things that please Him. Actions and attitudes that tell the world we belong to God in every circumstance and situation. Words that offer others the same grace and mercy we have so unworthily received. Morals and ethics that honor God, refusing to bend no matter the social pressure or lowered standards of our world. Works, as John the Baptist preached, that exhibit our repentance and the new creation we have become through the grace of our Creator, who is still busily creating centuries after He spoke the world into space. (Matthew 3:8; James 2:17; Acts 26:20; Corinthians 5:17)

 God still isn’t done. Not in us. Not in our world. But He’s not about keeping all the action to Himself, either. He offers us an opportunity to be part of it. He asks us to be His light in the world. In the darkened spaces where the voices are loud and the distractions strong, where the pull of sin is like a rip tide tugging at the souls stranded there. God asks us to be so full of Himself that, like the stars in the night sky, we illuminate the encroaching darkness around us. We light up the path to Jesus. We offer those hopelessly lost and helplessly drifting on the sea of despair a light to follow, a hope to claim, a direction to travel that they might be re-created, too. God calls us, commands us, to be lights in the world, to be fruitful and work to multiply His kingdom. Because God is busy making all things new. (Genesis 1:28; Matthew 5:14; Philippians 2:15; Ephesians 5:8; Revelation 21:5)

It doesn’t feel like it. As we read the news, listen to the pundits, talk to the neighbors, we find ourselves nodding in agreement with the words recorded in Ecclesiastes. Techniques and abilities may improve, but motivation remains the same. Nothing really changes. Nothing is ever truly new. What is being done now has been done before. Sin is accepted. Evil runs rampant. Wickedness flourishes. Casting our eye to every corner of our world, it appears God’s creative juices have ground to a halt. Darkness is encroaching. Just as it has in every generation in the history of the world. Nothing is new. Nothing is changing. Nothing is being re-created. Not that we can see. Sitting in that moment, our eyes fixed on the darkening sky, we find ourselves tempted to stop being the light. Hunker down in our bunker. Quietly conceal our own re-creation. Blend in with the world around us. Give in to the sins that so easily beset us. Gossip. Slander. Selfishness. Discontent. Slip into the edges of the darkness that dims the light of God in our lives and sours our spiritual fruit. But that isn’t why we were created and God isn’t finished with us. Not even close. 

From the dawn of day one to this very moment, God has always wanted to live in relationship with humanity. All humanity. Broken hearts. Damaged emotions. Empty lives. Darkened souls. Everyone. Everywhere. There are no exceptions. In grace and mercy, God looks on the people He unfailingly loves and sees what they could be if they would allow Him to make them a new creation. He hovers over their hearts, gently piercing the darkness of sin with the light of His presence. No soul is outside the reach of His grace. No heart is beyond the range of His mercy. No one is too far gone, too broken, too damaged, too lost. Because, just like day one of creation, when there was nothing, God stepped in and made something. Something worthwhile. Something productive. Something beautiful. He filled the dark void with the vibrant light of His presence. When everything amounted to nothing, God created something. (Romans 8:38-39; Zephaniah 3:17; Revelation 3:20; Jeremiah 31:3)

Perhaps you are living in that exact space. A place of nothing, when life stretches before you empty and useless. The future looks bleak and dark. You feel adrift on the inky waters of the darkest night of your soul. Don’t give up. God is there. He has always been there. He will always be there. He wants to make you new. He wants to illuminate your path. He wants to know you and be known by you. He wants to cultivate a relationship with you. He wants to be your first response, not your last resort. He wants to be the refuge to whom you continually flee in times of distress, discouragement, disgruntlement. God wants to change your life. Make it new. Make you new. Just as He has been doing since the dawn of creation, God is making all things new. He isn’t done. Not in me. Not in you. God is still miraculously turning nothing into something, driving out darkness with light, and nurturing relationship with His people. So let Him work. Let God do what He does. Let Him speak life and hope and nourishment into the dry, dark, and lifeless spaces of your heart. Surrender yourself, your situation, your circumstances to God and let Him make all things new. (Isaiah 44:6; Colossians 1:13-17; Ezekiel 11:19, 26:36; Jeremiah 9:24; Galatians 4:9; Deuteronomy 31:8; Psalm 71:3)