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- Written by: Don Goulding
God created humankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them,
male and female he created them. (Genesis 1:27)
Near our church, at the end of the street, is a camellia garden. One perfect but completed bloom fell to the mulch below. Its circlet of snowy petals was tinted with rouge, out on the tips, just so. Wafer-thin fingers of vibrancy reached from the mud, and implored me, “I am still alive, and too fine a thing to be down here.”
What makes the delicate membranes, geometric construction, and blended hues of a flower attractive to us? Why is the emerald head of a mallard handsome, or the vibrations of a symphony intoxicating, or the rainbow’s arc of prism colors jaw-dropping? What causes the breathless pause when a poem completes its rhythm using precisely the right word? In other words, why was my fallen camellia enthralling, but the mulch around it common?
A wildly creative God made no two humans alike, so we will never fully agree on what is beautiful. Still, there are some commonalities to our definitions. We like patterned symmetry, but also the unique and rare. We want things pure and unflawed. We desire order, but with creativity. We crave the rhythm of crescendos and rests, along with the contrasts of thrills and tranquility.
God is all these. He alone is unchanging, unique, rare, pure, unflawed, ordered, creative, passionate, restful, thrilling, and serene. We, likewise, are patterned to love the things our Creator is.
“Latent genetic patterning” is the terminology used in zoology to describe the imprinted preferences of an animal. For instance, a billy goat does not care about the display of a peacock’s tail. Ah, but a peahen really goes in for that sort of thing. She is patterned by God for attraction to iridescent feathers. You and I are patterned to love what our heavenly Father is. And that, quite simply, is what beautiful is. God is beauty.
Prayer: Father, I’m glad I’m created to love your beauty.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Who is this coming up from the desert
like a column of smoke,
like a fragrant billow of myrrh and frankincense,
every kind of fragrant powder of the traveling merchants? (Song of Songs 3:6)
Life under Adam’s curse sometimes grows wearisome. There is much the Christian must attend to—honor God, love others, cling to grace, remain humble, maintain purity, practice discipline, study the word, yada, yada, yada. It’s like firing round after round through the barrel of a gun. Every shot must be on target, but each one leaves a microscopic residue inside the bore that leads to misfires. Eventually, the whole rifle must be dismantled and cleaned back to gleaming perfection.
What cleans my heart is passion. Not all the time, but occasionally my inner being needs to be taken apart and wiped down with ecstasy over Jesus. I have to experience him as more than an historical entity or future Savior. I need to freeze in my tracks and gasp at him thundering across the desert to my rescue, eyes inflamed with zeal, smiting enemies on every side, and smelling of Hawaiian ginger. This is my Jesus, the champion of my soul, and as fierce upon his enemies as he is joyful over my love.
It’s good, from time to time, to remember who I serve. There is a rhythm to life. At the bottom of each cycle, I must be cleaned and remade by the passion of my faith. It puts me back into service, ready to fire exacting shots of purity, discipline, and generosity.
A soldier serving out of obligatory fear is a draining threat to his battalion. A warrior driven by passion, and filled by the Spirit of God, is an unstoppable army unto himself. He is like his own passionate King.
Prayer: Jesus my King and my Savior, I am rapt in awe of you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are the people who have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20:29)
The space around them suffused with a presence of holy goodness so tangible that it felt like liquid, rather than air. An intoxicating radiance danced through their bodies, and goosebumps waved over their skin. Moses in the cleft of the rock, Solomon in the glory filled temple, the apostles atop the Mount of Transfiguration, John deep in an apocalyptic trance–encounters with the glory of God that forged spiritual giants from clay mortals.
Now here I come, as common a duffer as any who lived. Yet, Jesus offers me a blessing in faith that can exceed what Moses and Elijah received. He says it comes of believing without seeing. What those who behold undeniable miracles have is not faith but experience, and yet, faith is what pleases God (Heb. 11:6). He desires that we love him and not his pyrotechnic miracles.
I spoke with the Lord on this theme as I performed one of those unspectacular but precious life tasks—walking my seventeen-month-old grandson in the park. Jesus showed me that, as I love Jaden, God loves me. He demonstrated how I could engage as much of his glory in that small moment as in any Mount Carmel fire from heaven extravaganza. It’s beside the calm waters of a simple life where whispers of God’s truth are heard the loudest.
God’s desire is that my heart would look for encounters with him in each bite of daily bread. By this means, a faith more precious than that of our Bible heroes may yet grow.
Prayer: Lord, give me heroic faith through small things.