Before there was anything there He was, hovering over the darkness. Breathing holy breath while all that was not, waited to become. Waited for His command.
With His words the brush of a skilled artist He began to create. Light rushed in at the sound of His voice. Then the waters obeyed and with a surge they parted and the sky was born. He gathered them and named them seas and land came forth as it was told. With every word of His mouth that which was not came to be. And it brought Him pleasure.
He chose light to separate the darkness and scattered the skies with the stars He had named. Having touched the hand of God they still burn bright in the darkness.
And then the creatures came to be blessed by their Creator and life was in motion and He was pleased. Pleased, but not satisfied.
God bent low and in His hands took dust from the ground and formed a man in His own image. And lower still, He came face to face with the man and breathed him to life. And from the man He took a bone and made the rest of His image and now, He could rest. He had made a place for His image bearers to dwell and care for all that He had created. He would walk with them and they would know Him. He would love them and care for them and be their God.
I am endlessly fascinated by the story of creation. The power of the voice of God to call forth that which does not exist. The pleasure He took in creating. The intimacy with which He made those who bear His image. His very breath bringing man to life.
The power of the One who makes something from nothing.
But you see, He separated the darkness but He did not extinguish it. Not yet. So the liar crept out of that deepness with a lie on his lips and death and despair came with him.
Because the lie has power too.
So I think of those six days on my days when the lie has found my heart and doubt settles like ancient dust across my soul. On my nothing days when the lie is on repeat.
“You are nothing of value. You have a nothing life. Nothing you do matters. Nothing will ever change. Nothing will make this go away. There is nothing you can do about it.”
Those six days are more than a story, more than a topic for debate, more than just the beginning. They are the sword that has far greater power than the lie that pierces my faith. They speak truth to the nothing lies.
God made everything from nothing.
And that ancient dust finds no place to settle on the soul that chooses truth. It makes no difference what kind of nothing I’m facing. My God will make something of it. Something good. Something that pleases Him. And I remember that He took a woman who had nothing to offer Him and He gave her everything in exchange for her nothing. And it brought Him pleasure.
Those six days matter to me.