Sweet new life rising from the ground. Creation buzzing. All these things here since the very beginning of time. Watching, wondering, waiting for You and yet here we are waiting for You again.
The stars that catch my eye were there when air first filled Your lungs. They heard Your first cry that changed the very Earth I’m existing on. They watched as You slept knowing what was to become of You. The moon who hangs so gently in the sky above my head was there all the nights Your mother sang You back to sleep knowing in her heart You were never hers to keep. There the night You washed feet, drank wine, and broke bread. There the night You were in the garden as blood rolled off Your brow. The sun that kisses my skin early in the morning is the same sun that kissed Your skin. The sun that watched as You were teaching in the temple as a child was the same sun that hid her face when they drove the iron through Your skin, the only day she has ever forbid to shine. The dirt that is under my feet is the very same ground that You crafted into bricks growing up along side Your father. The same dirt that You spit into and made the blind man see is the same ground that held tombs that broke open as it shook and rocks split when You took Your last breath. Trees that I lie under are the same trees that offered You shade in the heat of the day. The same tree that You told Zacchaeus to climb down from. The same tree they tortured You on as you told the man You’d see him in paradise. I played in the grass as a child and so did You. Running and playing with Your brothers and sisters, falling, the grass catching You as You roll down the hill laughing. The same grass that You sat on admiring Peter’s zeal as he jumped around like a child proclaiming his loyalty to You even though You knew what was to come. The rain that falls upon my head is the same rain that once fell upon Yours. The rain that You watched fall as a young man wondering how You were going to fulfill Your purpose, the weight You must have felt. The rain that turned into the water that John baptized You in as the Spirit rested on You as a dove. Water that You washed Your face in, a face I long to see.
The voice that tells me You love me is the same voice that calmed the sea. The voice that taught the Sermon on the Mount and multiplied the bread and the fish. The same voice that called Mary Magdalene by name for the first time. The voice that when, heard the whole world stops. The hands that cradle my face as tears flow from my eyes are the same hands that healed thousands. The same arms that are always open to me are the arms that hugged Judas knowing the evil in his heart, yet loved him anyways. I place my feet on the floor as the birds sing and the darkness fades into morning and You did too. The feet that danced at the wedding and walked upon the water. The feet Mary poured perfume on and washed with her hair, are the same feet that climbed Golgotha and had iron drove through them.
Creation sings Your praise because they have been here from the start. They longed for You, they waited for You, and when You came, all of creation fell on its face and worshipped You. All except the ones You came to reclaim. We are back as it was in the beginning. Watching, wondering, waiting for You. Yeshua we are ready for You.
