It is easy for me to get lost in lofty and heady abstract concepts about God while my heart sits locked up in a freezer somewhere completely unaffected. God is not a machine. He is an artist. A master storyteller. He did not, after all, snap his fingers and poof the Earth into existence. Instead, he painted it layer by layer, carefully separating the earth from the heavens, and adding contrast by dividing light and darkness.
In Isaiah 55, God speaks of how rain and snow descend from heaven, every drop brimming with purpose and life. It nourishes everything it touches and never fails to accomplish its task. And God gives us this vivid imagery to show us how his Word works. I love that.
It’s heaven-sent with a purpose. A gift of life that can turn the even the most arid of deserts into an oasis. No drop is wasted. There is a time to dig deep and wrestle with the sufficiency of Scripture. There is a time to pour over old books and that connect the threads of how the Bible works. There is a time to form creeds and confessions to articulate core doctrines.
And there is a time to sit in wonder like a child at the fact that somehow, someway, his words are like rain.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”
– Isaiah 55:10-11