I believe that God’s beams reach out to all the earth, His people, His entire Creation. And I believe that Creation longs for those beams and moves in a direction to align with the blessing inherent in them.
Along the way it may meet with interference. An imposter extends itself before this tendril of a soul, and promises to satisfy its yearning. Stretching and reaching for the beam, the tendril is charmed in the shadow of the lie. It abandons the promise of God and begins hoping that the lie will suffice. It never will.
Of course, bad things ultimately unfold. The beam is gone and vine collects itself heavily on that limb for warmth. The limb isn’t a vital limb after all, but a dead twig now cracking under the weight of the desperately invested vine. Now the vine fears moving again at all.
Move again toward God or collapse.
There are the beams—they were within the vine’s reach all along. But what will hold the weight of its mistake? The Son. The Source. It gathers the pile and holds it while the vine strengthens in those pure, golden rays.
That is how I rise. That is how I grow in Christ. That is how I am saved. Not settling for the things that pretend to be my saving place, but patiently reaching and praying for His saving grace.
The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace. Numbers 6:24-26
Meeting God at the Park 