In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
John 1:1, NIV
I am a daughter of the Word, blessed with competency to work with words, unable to find appropriate words to speak of the beautiful Word.
I’m a writer; I can make sentences look pretty. When I’m writing fiction, it’s easier to do. When I’m writing about God the task is harder, because how do I put Him in words?
It would seem easy. After all, He is the Word (John 1:1). Nothing exists without Him, not even the fiction I write in my novels. He is the source of all things, including my creativity. So why is it difficult to write about Him?
Can a drop of water describe the ocean from which it came? Can a gust of wind whisper of the storm that sent it? If so, what would they say?
Let the sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.
Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy.
Psalm 98:7-8, NIV
My words try to glorify the Word, and they’re going to fall short. There is so much more where they came from; He whispered the universe into existence (or maybe shouted it). I put my words on paper and do the best I can, but even when I do a good job by human standards, I can’t do Him justice.
My words come from the One Who wrote everything in His book (Psalm 139:16). He also wrote the galaxy into existence and the colors of every fish in the sea. I can write a decent story, but it doesn’t come without practice and editing; He created everything that exists without effort. There were no rough sketches for Him, no outlines.
Sure, He spends a lot of time managing His-story for our sake, so that we can get back to Him–but He doesn’t have to, because He is God. To whom do we dare compare His work? If He chose to leave us as we were after the Fall, rather than send His Son, to what standard would we dare hold Him? He would still be perfect.
Who can fathom the Spirit of the LORD, or instruct the LORD as his counselor?
Isaiah 40:13, NIV
Words fail me when I try to speak of Him. I want to write like my Father creates, but I can’t. He gave me the gift of creativity, though, and because I am His child, He’s pleased to see me imitate Him.
Like a drop of water glorifies the ocean, my words always drift back to the Word, because He is good. I will spend my life trying to speak of this goodness, because from the Word comes everything beautiful–every good deed, emotion, and story.
And even though I’ll always fall short, I know He’ll smile because He loves me.