The Inhabiting

 "He made darkness His pavilions round about Him - dark waters and thick clouds". Psalm 18:11.

Ever get one of those days when lots of what has been chuntering around in your thoughts over several days, perhaps weeks, suddenly begins to take form and lead to something quite profound?

It all started for me a while back - a few weeks ago, when I started reading a book entitled "Your God is too Glorious". It was a work which demanded all of my attention, but it also requires a slow read - not because it's prose was particularly difficult or dense, but because it was opening and scenting the musty antechambers of my heart and mind with an alluring, refreshing invitation to Gods fathomless beneficence in a fashion that I had certainly only glimpsed on some of the rarest moments in my life (hopefully, that will arouse your curiosity!).

I'm not going to say anymore here about the treasures of this gem beyond a reference to the start of the third chapter - Godforsaken hangouts, where the author speaks about a particular spot in nature where he would often be alone with God and where, occasionally in the glints of morning light, he would sense the 'veil' between here and eternity was incredibly thin, like a mist you could walk though into the land beyond.

It's spring here at the moment

This time of year always makes me vividly aware of God's great deeds in creation, and as a result, I'm usually drawn as well back to those opening chapters of scripture commonly known as the creation account.

For the last few (around a decade!) years, I've been fascinated about the nature in which this work is addressed, especially the 'six days' process, which is marked by the 'there was an evening, and a morning' framework. Yes, I know this becomes a cornerstone of God's people understanding the gift of the rest -seventh- day (the sabbath beginning at sunset), but why is the special moments ("bara") of the creation process marked in this particular fashion in respect to the work of creation itself? Why, in other words, did God choose to act creatively in those periods from sunset to sunrise?

An unexpected answer came knocking this week in the form of a video from a relatively new ministry. I'm not going to unpack the brilliant insight here this brother shares from his own studies ( - the video does it really well, so sit back and enjoy), but once I watched it, several things quickly fell into place.

After giving it a view, just stop for a moment and think about these important matters:

The hours of darkness at the Cross.

Solomon informing us that the Lord dwells in a 'thick darkness' (1 Kings 8:12).

The opening verses of Genesis 1 - especially meditate on the latter part of verse two - the earth being empty, enveloped in darkness, and God "hovering" over these depths.

There is something remarkably curbing here, in respect to ourselves. It 'fixes' us to the gravity, the phenomenal "stillness" of what its seeking to express - there, amidst a "weight' of impenetrable stuff, God is calmly at work, poised to speak, to touch, to gently inform with His ordaining that light 'be', and with that moment, impress upon the wax of what had been faceless the indelible mark of His majestic handiwork. From that single moment, all that is encompassed in the spheres of time and space would be so lovingly illustrated with a Word spanning and sustaining all.

This, I suspect, is why God chose to place the 'days' of creation in these six frames of the evening leading to a new dawn. With each 'dividing' comes a new springing of greater revelation of His grandeur and majesty within His handiwork, furnishing a particular realm - the earth - to the point where it is a fitting habitation for the persons who will speak regally of His own nature.

It's quite a drama, and it may help you look at what you read in that opening, and many other scriptures, in a manner that aids in future days.

May the Lord who caused that light to shine through the darkness, equally light our minds and hearts, giving us a knowledge of Himself in the radiance of the face of Jesus Christ.