So many meditations waiting, so little time… there is an innumerable amount of concepts and Bible truths and analogies and aspects of nature and past experiences (both my own and those of others) and riveting analogies and nuances of personalities and corners of the human heart and especially characteristics of God in all three of His persons to ponder.
Driving back from dinner at Black Angus with my father-in-law, he mentioned the beauty of Santa Clarita. Indeed, it is a beautiful place. Green trees waving in the breeze, perpetually green grass exemplifying the life that God gives (and the life that God is), a blue sky and a bright yellow sun, characteristics of desert life, rolling hills. What God brought to my mind once again (the first time was at Big Bear Lake last year) is the marvelous thought that this stunningly beautiful, delightful world of nature that He so simply and intricately made is *fallen*.
Its fallenness makes it that much more impressive, and reveals that its Creator is that much more glorious than I know Him to be. “For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8:19-23).
Just as we await “the redemption of our body” with intense groaning and deep-seated desire, so the creation also awaits its own redemption from the futility in which it is shackled. See, my soul, how horrific sin is — be warned, and be hateful against it. But nevertheless, how astonishing is it that the beauty of nature that we stand in awe of is still under the Curse?
The point that my Father has taught me is this: how glorious and beautiful and multi-faceted and incomprehensible must He be to create a world of nature that even when bound by the oppressive curse of sin is staggeringly beautiful? When you watch the rising sun set the eastern horizon ablaze, is it not a jaw-dropping thought to think that that very sun is under the curse of sin, just like the rest of creation? The redwoods of Northern California are also, in some way, in shackles. As is Angel Falls, and the waving wheat of the prairie, and the life-taking strength of the deserts, and the overflowing life of the rainforests, and the simple beauty of the Asian rice fields, and the majesty of the Andes Mountains. How they are still so beautiful, I do not know, except to say “the glory of God.”
And if this creation, beautiful as it is (just look around), is “subjected to futility,” “in slavery to corruption,” and “groaning and suffering the pains of childbirth,” what must the new heavens and the new earth be like, and what must the world of heaven be like when it is in every sense of the word, *free*?
“And I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the Almighty, and the Lamb, are its temple. And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine upon it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb… And there shall no longer be any curse; and the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and His bond-servants shall serve Him; and they shall see His face…” (Revelation 21:22-23; 22:3-4a).
“Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5).
Look up — the stars scattered throughout the heavens in all their magnificence are “groaning.” What must they be like when they are free? Who then is this, who has created these things, and who is this who will make it all new? And who is this who died to free us and to grant us to share in its newness? Let me know Him…