Genesis 1

In the immortal words of Oscar Hammerstein II, "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start." (I love The Sound of Music, but those lyrics are either alarmingly vapid or so deliberately and ironically vacuous as to be deviously brilliant. Then again, the main body of that marvelous song is basically one stanza over and over with one additional line as counterpoint.)

God created man and woman in His image (v. 27). This passage is particularly apposite to some of the current issues I'm wrestling with. If we are created in God's image, representing Him as His agents on Earth, aren't we supposed to reflect Him in character and attitude? I know I don't--far from it, in fact. I am in need of God's loving grace, because otherwise, my attitude tends to stink.

I can be self-deprecating to a fault, easy to acknowledge my weaknesses. I suck at math. A kindergartener would look at my drawing and visual artistry skills with mirthful disdain. My few sad attempts at poetry fail to rise above the jejune. I probably have the worst grip on the planet--I just cannot open Gatorade bottles without using one of those rubber cap opener things. (Probably doesn't help that I always have sweaty hands at the time, because who wants Gatorade when you haven't been exercising?) So even if I don't always put my trust in God, allowing Him to be strong where I'm weak, I do acknowledge my weak points. I think my problem is when I rely on that weakness instead of God, which is when it all goes to crap.

That's kind of a big tangent--I suspect that's also going to become a regular feature of these posts. Anyway, in verse 2, we have the wonderfully evocative image of God hovering over the waters. Now, this is before He says, "Let there be light," so a human wouldn't have been able to actually see anything, (or breathe, probably) but imagine--an omnipresent, omniscient, loving presence just waiting, suspended over an expansive seascape. Existing, but unseen. (Remember what I wrote about my poetry skills earlier?) And that God, who in that moment is alone (or maybe angels existed at this point--I'm obviously no Biblical scholar) and about to unleash his sublime powers of creation to bring this world into existence--He wants to have a personal relationship with me?

Inconceivable!

Well, God, unlike our poor friend Vizzini, clearly did conceive such a notion. I am utterly undeserving, yet He still loves me, you, and everyone else.