I recently returned from Hong Kong on a 13 hour flight. I had a window seat. I like the window seat because you can see things. I was reading Eugene Peterson’s Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, which is a very heavy read (after 2x 13 hour flights I’m still only at page 70). A heavy read, but delightful. There’s a section which talks about how Jesus is engaged in His creation. Absolutely, totally interwoven with every aspect of His creation. Playing with it. Dancing with it. Loving it. And we are fulfilled by acknowledging His absolute involvement in our lives, our world, and responding with our own awestruck adoration and joy. He is wrapped up inside each newborn baby, each crying child, because that’s what He became at Bethlehem (Luke 2; John 1:14). In just the same way, He takes His Earth, which He spoke into existence at the beginning of time (Gen. 1:2; John 1:1-3), and wraps it protectively in clouds like cotton wool. Then I took this picture.
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I recently returned from Hong Kong on a 13 hour flight. I had a window seat. I like the window seat because you can see things. I was reading Eugene Peterson’s Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, which is a very heavy read (after 2x 13 hour flights I’m still only at page 70). A heavy read, but delightful. There’s a section which talks about how Jesus is engaged in His creation. Absolutely, totally interwoven with every aspect of His creation. Playing with it. Dancing with it. Loving it. And we are fulfilled by acknowledging His absolute involvement in our lives, our world, and responding with our own awestruck adoration and joy. He is wrapped up inside each newborn baby, each crying child, because that’s what He became at Bethlehem (Luke 2; John 1:14). In just the same way, He takes His Earth, which He spoke into existence at the beginning of time (Gen. 1:2; John 1:1-3), and wraps it protectively in clouds like cotton wool. Then I took this picture.