Today I want to write quick, before my fingers forget what my heart is singing. I woke up to the realization that Christ is in all things preeminent.
Do you know what this means, friends? That He gives us sparrows and seasons, that He gives grace in abundance and speaks goodness over our mess. And the whole of it, from each stone in our path to the stars scattered across the Friday, to the moon rising and the fields and the wildflowers, and the beauty of England in March? In all of this is Christ, glorious and real.
I had a thought while I was driving home from church today, praying out loud to the silence. As I rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of the sun flickering on the river, I realized that when we disobeyed, we didn't just disobey a commandment. We disobeyed His goodness. We didn't just rebel against what He told us to do and not do; we rebelled against all that He had blessed. We wanted the one thing He said "no" to, and in wanting it, and trying to take it? We sacrificed all of the goodness He had poured over every thing that moves and breathes and lives and exists on the earth.
And so here we are, the third week in Lent, talking about our helplessness. We disobeyed the goodness and sought our own way. We looked over what God had made and demanded that we own it, own ourselves, and forgot Him. And Lent brings this back in a sharp and painful way - on the road to the Cross we are forgetful and disobedient. Even on the way to Jesus we stray. Even in moments of being right next to Him we forsake Him.
What can be done, I wondered as I peered down the road before making my left turn. We can't heal ourselves. Lent proves that. We can't climb out of the hole with sweat and tears and hard work. We need His goodness and His grace every moment. In all of this, Christ preeminent.
So can we pray together, across our own fields and valleys, in our backyards and over our dinner tables, that He would be in all of it?
Lord Jesus Christ, you are in all things preeminent. May we hear once again how You blessed the world and called it good. May we remember how You loved it so much that You entered it and moved in it and breathed its air and ate its bread, and promised to redeem it. May the grace of Your spirit which dwells in us teach us to magnify You, Christ, in all things preeminent.
To You be the glory this Lent, and in each moment. Amen.