There’s no mistaking it; you are not God. I am not God. Together we are not God. Isaiah 40 tells us that, in the grand scheme of life, you and I are no more than withering grass. That means that at our best, in our finest moments we are green pastures – useful for the respite and nourishment of the Shepherd’s flocks. At our best, we sacrifice ourselves to benefit God’s Kingdom, and by striving for self-preservation we may actually be neglecting the needs of others within the Kingdom. The health, beauty and vitality of any green pasture lasts for only a season – together we are truly no more than grassy fields, green for a season, made for the benefit of others, and withering as the seasons pass.

How different a picture this same chapter draws of the Lord our God! You and I may wither, but not so the Lord! The valleys will rise up to meet Him, the mountains will bow down, the rocks will be smoothed and paths will appear in the desert in order to herald His arrival. His very word endures forever. The entirety of creation plays a role in welcoming our Lord and savior.

Proud mountains bow in humility, deep valleys muster the strength to rise; but what of you and I? All too often we protect what we deem to be the “green” parts of our lives. We lock the gate to our pastures, and hang “No Trespassing” signs in the hopes that God won’t request access. We have tricked ourselves into believing that the health and growth we experience in any particular season are intended for our own glory, forgetting that we are at our finest when we are in the service of His Kingdom.

Open your gates.

You and I are no more than fields of grass. What more could we desire than for Christ to tread well-worn paths through our lives? What more could we gain than to give of ourselves for His weary flock? All of creation is transformed to welcome His arrival. Will you be transformed?

Open your gates.