Made In the Image of God

clara ben paradeDoes God laugh? Does He cry?

From the beginning of our understanding of God’s word, we were taught that we are made in the image of God. Does that include the  genetic or hereditary make up of God’s laughter? His tears?

What if being made in the image of God means just that… we are images of God? Does that mean just physical? Do we dare get literal on this subject?

Our physical image changes, based on our spiritual, emotional, and mental ‘images’. There are days we are not feeling up to par emotionally. It affects our physical image—we look downcast, maybe even teary-eyed. There are days we are spent mentally and we look worn out. Our legs move slowly, our eyes are baggy. There are days when things could not get any better. We are vibrant, smiling, laughing.

But—God is sovereign. So does that mean He doesn’t cry, because He knows what’s coming, just as He would not laugh at something because He foreknew thousands of years ago what would happen and there is no surprise element?

I asked my husband if he thought God cried. Without hesitation, he answered ‘yes’ and added, ‘Jesus wept.’ That was too easy. I brought up the thought of God being sovereign and knowing of the impending doom of his children’s choices.  He commented that I know that my son chewing tobacco will lead to mouth cancer and yet, if the time comes that he is diagnosed with that, I will cry. Good point.

There are so many depictions of Christ having such a sad face. There was a time I couldn’t picture him ever laughing, having those pictures in my head. Nowhere (that I know of) does it talk about God actually laughing or even smiling. And yet, if we are made in the image of God, our joy must be released somehow—through encouragement, laughter, smiles, kind gestures. Those things are not produced with a sorrowful expression.

Last night I was walking with a friend and I can’t—oh wait, yes I can—remember what we were laughing about and I said to her that I bet God was laughing His head off (not literally).  I could picture God actually doing that. After all, isn’t it God who said (through Solomon) that a merry heart does good like medicine (Proverbs 17:22)?

I know when I laugh, it feels good.  You know, not a chuckle or a snicker but really laugh. My little granddaughter—when she is excited—really excited—she screams.  She only does this when she really happy. She hasn’t learned, as so many of us have, to suppress her joy.

Solomon said there is a time to weep, and a time to laugh…   God does both and if we are made in His image, so should we.  Just a thought.

Loved

basket-roses-straight-sharp

egg shells

scattered across the floor

tread carefully

or you’ll cut your feet

bruise your heart

and breaking your spirit

tread carefully

or the current of the river

will suck you under

without compassion

cruel and unforgiving

hold on tightly

to the only Hand

that is stretching out

catching your tears with one

pulling you out with the other

hide safely buried in His arms

feel the beat of His heart

knowing if you were the only one

still it would beat for you

rest peacefully

warmed and covered by His grace

healed by His touch

covered in His mercy

held in His love

The Silence of God

There is an aching in my heart –
a numb feeling resides
as I wonder what is next

I cry out, I plea
only to be met
with the silence of God

Is there anything darker,
anything louder
than this?

On His knees
alone in the garden,
Jesus wept
under this very torment.

Alone and unattended is He
as His father remains voiceless
while He begs for pardon.

Silent and still
is the crisp air that surrounds me.
I ache but am not cold.
His silence warms me.

Noise disintegrates into the background
His still, quiet presence whispers grace,
without words
like a helpless friend who can do nothing
but sit and wait alongside of grief.

The silence permeates the space
and shouts of His presence -
holding me, singing over me, like a mother to her child.

In the darkness,
when I fear the light will never shine
I close my eyes, and am held,
comforted and loved
without words.

The silence of God –
proving understanding and compassion,
bleeding mercy and grace
showing me that I do not ache alone.