The First Pick.

In the shed, there's a prism hanging from the window creating rainbows that cover every wall. On the table sits a pair of glasses, some airplane layouts, and something that looks like a wooden skeleton of a jet. Just smaller. Usually, the scene overflows with colored stained glass pieces. But things were different this time, as I'm sure they probably are every time. I just somehow found the eyes to see change.

Wearing unevenly lengthed, blue jean shorts I cut myself, with edges that were frayed all the way around. I walked through the garden and sank my feet deep into the dirt. I let it fill the places between my toes, and it reminded me of home. I thought about the idea of standing on God's solid ground. To have the foundation of this earth caked underneath my toenails. Further, to know that I came first, maybe not physically. But the thought. Me, then the earth.

We came first.

God designed us  before the foundation of the world. He placed loves in our hearts, or in my case - children and beards. He chose the places we'd go and the foods we'd like. He aligned our fingerprints in a pattern that no one else had or ever will have. He chose our parents, date of birth, the name we'd be called. All this - before the earth.

***

This season, I've watched Christ use spring. I've felt Him speaking new truths into me about who I am. Who He desires me to be. Where He desires me to be. And how I'll get there. I know I was just explaining in my last post how I'll never fully reach the point of knowing exactly who I am inside and out. But it's been cool to think about the fact that God does. And He'll never stop shaping me.

We start like spring. Slowly unfolding, breathing newness and sweetness. Things that can't be stuffed into a picture. Spring grows from reality, the real. People don't care about "Jesus loves you" or "He'll never leave you or forsake you." They have a hard time believing it. They're drawn to the authentic. The real stuff. Spring grows through the dead life around it. Green slivers slowly making their way to the scene. Starting from one. Every flower grows up from the dirt.

God speaks life into us and from the One - we grow. Before we know it, He makes us spring. This is what I do, he says. And I will never stop creating you.