Running Forward in Reverse (Genesis 13:2-4)
Meditations on Genesis #32
Genesis 13:2-4a
Now Abram was very rich in livestock, in silver, and in gold. And he journeyed on from the Negeb as far as Bethel to the place where his tent had been at the beginning…to the place where he had made an altar at the first. And there Abram called upon the name of the LORD.
As part of Abram’s advance forward in his life of faith, he goes backward to where it all began.
Perhaps that observation seems more pithy than practical, but it’s a principle we discover throughout the scriptures. Think of it: how did king David learn to lean on the strength of Almighty God even after killing Goliath and later becoming a prominent force in Israel? By going back in his mind to that boyhood pastureland where God first ordained him. I bet he kept that leather sling by his bedside till the day he died and set that giant-killing stone on his living room mantle and kept that boyhood staff at the front end of his wardrobe so that he’d run into it every time he reached for a royal garment. How did Peter remain meek after preaching a sermon before the Sanhedrin that has now gone down in history as one of the greatest revivalist messages ever? By going back in his mind to that Galilean shoreline where Christ first called his name and said, “Follow Me, and I will make you a fisher of men.” I bet he kept pieces of that fish net tied to his bedpost—the net he’d used on that night he couldn’t catch anything till Jesus told him to cast it on the other side. How did Paul remain humble after writing numerous Epistles and leading thousands of people throughout Asia Minor to the LORD? By letting a pilgrimage of recollection lead him over and over again to that winding stretch of road where he first encountered Christ in all His shekinah glory. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn in heaven that Paul, for all the traveling he did throughout his ministry, made a point to pass down that road to Damascus from time to time, stopping to sit and pray at the very spot of his conversion, the way an old man rests at the gravesite of his beloved wife and celebrates her life with fresh roses and prayers of thanksgiving.
Friend, how might our perspective change if we spent a few moments this morning, before getting lost in the routines of another week that has frankly come too soon, by going in reverse? By reflecting on that sacred place where we first kneeled before Christ and called Him LORD, and recalling to mind the words of pastors and parents and mentors who fanned that newly-lit flame in our hearts with wisdom and grace, and reminiscing on those summer camps we spent praising the LORD in complete harmony with our neighbors, and those mission trips we took where God overcame our fear and trepidation and empowered us to share His gospel with complete strangers, and those precious moments where we heard The Spirit whisper into our hearts some clear calling to marry that woman or adopt that child or start that new business or reach out to that struggling neighbor or overcome that addiction? The truth is whether you’ve been following Jesus for five years or fifty, whether your spiritual scrapbook is long or short, you are rich in the priceless, precious treasures of divine blessing, and your cup is overflowing from all the moments Almighty God has condescended to meet with you and walk with you and minister to you, and revisiting those monuments you’ve raised in the wake of such marvels remains an essential step on your advance forward.
If the life of faith is like a race as Paul suggests, then in one sense it’s more like a race on a track than a cross-country run. It’s a run that keeps winding us around full circle, where every fresh lap leads us right back to the starting point. And I believe God wired it that way so that the monuments we leave behind us, as well as the memories that tend to get buried in our minds under day-to-day stressors, aren’t utterly abandoned as we continue onward. Before long, almost like clockwork, our Good Shepherd brings them before our eyes again.
*The above picture is an illustration I made with colored pencils for my wife on our first anniversary. The drawing itself is a bit comical, and I went a little crazy with the black pen, but it depicts an actual photograph from our special wedding on the edge of the Grand Canyon almost eleven years ago. Pictures like these fill our home’s walls, and the addition of children has only added more photographs and illustrations and special notes to the collage of marvels that document our time together. But here’s the funny thing: this picture stands on a back wall of our living room as part of an ensemble of decorative framed images that sit on cedar shelves I built for my wife last year. I quite literally sit by these scenes day in and day out, but I rarely notice them. As G.K. Chesterton allegedly said, “The things we see all the time we never see at all.” Which is wonderfully ironic, because I’d sort of forgotten about monuments like my Grand Canyon wedding till I sat down to write this meditation today, and the writing led to reflection, and I began taking a walk down memory lane in the quiet of my own living room; so now, here I am, on Monday, June 2nd, readying to embrace whatever new and never-before-seen endeavor The Spirit has in store, but starting out by going back around full circle to those altars of past theophanies and thanking the LORD for them.
Love the wall, the shelves, the drawing, and the thoughts. I have been to the Grand Canyon twice - was dumbfounded and started to get misty-eyed the first time I saw it in my mid 20's. When my son first saw it, at about 12 years old (9 years ago), his words were, and I quote -
"Whoa. Awesome."
That about sums it up.
One wall in our living room has pictures of four generations of our family, along with a letter from my wife's grandmother & my son's first fish. It is not an impressive fish, but a first fish is one of those monuments of sweet, God blessed moments of family life. Just looking at it bring a bit of cheer to a gloomy day.
It probably will not make sense to describe in words, but on that wall, there is a picture of my parents above a picture of my son's 5–6-year-old lower legs, with his feet in the sand on Pensacola beach. The way the pictures are lined up my Daddy looks like a Dufflepud.
Great grain showing on the shelves. If you are like me, you fretted about which edge of the wood to show. You have to commit to it.
Wow! Gorgeous art! Really cool to see after having seen the original photo.
Thanks for the reminder to be still and know that He is God.