By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work.
God had finished what he was doing.
Finished. Done. Complete.
Then Satan came, and did his thing. And Eve came and did her thing. And then God wasn’t finished anymore… until Jesus.
Until the cross.
Until one more time – forever- he could say,
“It is finished.”
I write. But I am never done. When I go back and reread, given the slightest change in mood, I could revise forever. The only rest of completion I ever have is turning away from my work and never looking at it again.
But God is not me – He is complete. In all ways.
And his works are complete. In all ways.
So maybe, just maybe… he sees me as complete? Perfect? Not needing any revising?
Ha. Both he and I know that is not even remotely true
… or is it?
“And you are complete in Him,
who is the head of all rule and authority.”
“Because I trust concerning this, that he who has begun good work in you
will complete it until the day of our Lord Yeshua The Messiah.”
But I have to wonder then: is “complete” a verb or an adjective? ( I am complete – adjective. He will complete… verb)
Maybe completion, isn’t static, but living motion.
Maybe stamping a seal of completion, is based on the living, working-it-out intention of the vision at its creation.
Maybe it’s perfect love – and not a perfect me – that can bring the peace of His rest on this desperately imperfect heart.
I am complete,
knit together with un-stringed love and numbered days,
with all my hair follicles perfectly accounted for.
It is finished.
In the apple of his eye,
and the timeline of his palm
…I am complete.