God made the world and it was beautiful.
We are made in His image and given responsibility to look after the beautiful garden He placed us in.
We messed up.
Some of the mess is evident overtly in the ways we treat this planetary garden. Some of the mess is evident in how we treat others responsible for looking after the beautiful garden. Some of the mess is evident in how we treat ourselves also responsible for looking after the beautiful garden.
Beauty that is supposed to be cultivated and adored is exploited and abused. Beauty that is supposed to flourish is a mess.
We messed up.
For every effort made to do something better, there’s something to make things worse. For every appeal of progress, there’s evidence of regress. There’s the mess and the beauty, but it was supposed to be beauty.
God Himself came and walked among us in the mess. Messed up lives with illness, spiritual blindness and all manner of devastation on every level. He came and walked and suffered. He carried the mess, He took on the mess, He became the mess … to beautify us and beautify the garden.
Those who followed Him acknowledged their call to follow Him in the mess and do what it took to express His beauty to beautify others and the garden.
A couple of thousand years later I am walking through the streets of Stoke-on-Trent. I reach my home, I sit in my chair, I read article and blog and watch video and report highlighting clearly how in this area, the city, the country and the world the garden is being messed up and those responsible to look after it are being messed up.
It doesn’t take much for me to see in my own life the mess.
I messed up. And He came to beautify me. In doing so, He expects me, reasonably to rely on Him to be involved in the mess of others. Graphic, deeply engrained, debilitating yet captivating, real and draining – mess. Singing songs about how I love Jesus with people who love Jesus should ready me for the call to love Jesus by following Him into mess. Not to condone it, or wallow in it, but not to mess it up further with my messed up twisted version of beauty. To see He who beautifies truly and reflect that in my daily mess.
Even though we messed up – He came to beautify.
For His Name’s Sake
C. L. J. Dryden