The God Who Opens

I have this thing about flowers. And the Highlands of Papua New Guinea is a good place to have a flower obsession. All year round our yard is an explosion of pink roses, red and yellow dahlias, tiny orange honeysuckles, peach gladiolas, and these poofy purple things that I’m sure have a name. But my favorite flowers are the gardenias. We have five bushes scattered around the yard, and they all seem to bloom at once, and then I have to run outside barefoot and visit each blossom because there’s just something about having warm grass under my toes and lungs full of gardenia scented air. I pick one flower, one that’s just starting to unfurl, and bring it inside to finish blossoming in the red glass cup on the piano.

There’s glory in the opening.

Gentle spreading, fragile petals reaching, and the fragrant center all bare. And there it is, quietly worshiping the God who opens.

Sometimes His opening is the slow uncovering of silent beauty.

And sometimes it’s power and terror, like piled walls of water that leave a path on the sea floor. Like the ripping of a heavy scarlet curtain from top all the way down, an invitation to know the God who IS. Like the rolling away of a massive stone that sealed in death, because it can’t hold back Life.

Sometimes His opening looks like tears washing truth-blind eyes to really see.

Sometimes it’s the tearing of wounds that have healed all wrong, draining deep infection, breaking scar tissue that binds and cripples. It’s searing, ripping pain that screams us forward into full-lunged freedom.

It’s hands open to receive what God has for us, whatever He has. It’s fingers uncurled to let go of lesser loves.

It’s a mouth speaking hard words that pull up deep sin roots. It’s arms held high, throat stretched full with worship and tears, and there we stand all fragrant and soul bare, knowing that this opening is a gift.

And there He stands, the Giver. The God Who Opens, opening Himself to us.

“Then at your command, O LORD, at the blast of your breath, the bottom of the sea could be seen, and the foundations of the earth were laid bare. “ Psalm 18:15 (NLT)