Finding Stability in God’s Creation

How do you create a new life? How do you begin when you have nothing to build with? Or when every brick you put down crumbles? How do you start over when you’re starting from scratch? What steps should you follow?

The Bible girl in me eventually returned to Scripture. There in Genesis 1:2, right where I paused my deep dive, I found my answer. My answer was in God’s position. He was above it all—hovering. See, it’s right there in the book:

The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. (Genesis 1:2)

The Spirit of God hovered over all of it—all of the chaos, emptiness, and darkness. The Hebrew words translated “was hovering” and “over” are merăhĕpĕt and ‘ăl. They mean to “circulate” and “above,” respectively.

God wasn’t agitated or overwhelmed at the sight of the universe’s unformed state. Nor was he stuck or frozen by the task before him. No, our God was freely moving above it all. He was moving in place, circulating above—not swirling aimlessly or moving frantically like a hamster on a wheel.

On the contrary, our God was hovering peacefully, calmly. His movements were light and quick as they prepared his creation for his next creative acts, his commands, which followed. And when God is creating us, when it’s our turn to be formed, again he moves, preparing us and all we need to fulfill our purpose and visions—lining us up so he can look upon us, experience us, be pleased with us, and, in the end, call us good.

I don’t know about you, but discovering that God’s first act in the creation story was hovering gave me pause—and the realization also provided insight into the first step in God’s creative process. So let’s take a beat and rest here for a moment or two.

Preparing to hover.

Since the Israelites witnessed God hovering in the form of a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night as he guided them through the wilderness, the idea of him moving above them wouldn’t have seemed strange.

As God hovered, overseeing everything, he had the freedom to move in various ways. Even today we may sense God moving in similar ways—gently circulating, preparing us for the next step. Since the key to our fruitfulness—our ability to create new lives—lies in abiding, we must learn to hover with him. So let’s take a moment to contemplate how we may apply four different hovering movements to our own lives.

Suspended in place in the air. The first hovering movement we’ll explore, suspended in place in the air, describes the image depicted in Genesis 1:2. I envision God hovering in midair—and to be honest, this position didn’t immediately comfort me.

Allow me to explain. As a child I suffered from asthma, a respiratory condition where excess mucus would block my airways, making it difficult to breathe. As a result I experienced recurring nightmares that included threats to my breathing. In one I’m in a spacecraft. At some point I venture outside alone using a tether. All is well until the tether breaks and I float off into space. At that moment I awaken, shaken and distressed. Furthermore, not a strong swimmer, I also had nightmares about falling off bridges into deep water and sinking into oblivion.

Reading this, you’ll likely not be shocked to learn that the idea of being suspended over anything deep isn’t high on my list of recreational activities. Who am I kidding? It isn’t on my list at all.

After Reggie’s death, it was no different. In fact, it was worse.

Reggie was a gifted encourager and supporter. Most importantly for me, he was my champion. When he died, I lost that encouragement and support. I lost my champion—the most tangible part of my support system at the time. It’s no wonder I felt unsupported. It’s no wonder I felt untethered.

Living through the end of the world as you know it often feels as though you’re floating through life untethered. What’s more, you’re floating above a shapeless void—a shadowy abyss.

Untethered and disconnected is exactly how many people felt as we attempted to reengage with society after the COVID pandemic. In March 2020 we retreated into our homes, initially thinking it would only be for a couple of weeks, but it ended up lasting for about two years. Social distancing and mask-wearing created physical and emotional barriers, separating us from our loved ones. Essentially, we found ourselves in isolation, and even now, over four years later, some people still hesitate to gather.

During that time you may have felt isolated, maybe lonely. Like me, your support system may have been ripped out from beneath you. You also may have lost your passion, leaving you feeling disconnected from your purpose, without vision, and simply going through the motions.

You may feel stuck today for different reasons. You don’t want to move forward into the formless, empty, dark situation before you. The disconnection you sense between previously satisfying activities and your current dissatisfaction causes you to pause—and that’s a good thing.

Because, as we see from Genesis 1:2, hovering or floating untethered is by design. It’s the first step in God’s creative process for rebuilding a life. You feel untethered because you’re no longer tied to the part of your life that just ended, but feeling disconnected from your old life doesn’t mean you have to feel disconnected from God—at least, not for long.

Once I realized I was right where God wanted me to be—untethered from my old life—my struggle began to end. I didn’t need to be afraid because my position wasn’t untenable. I wasn’t hanging by a thread or cord, as with bungee jumping; I was suspended by and with the Spirit of God. Even though there was an abyss of disorganization, desolation, and darkness as far as my eye could see, I didn’t have to fall into that. I could rest easy. I didn’t have to worry I’d drift away—because God’s Spirit had me. He still has me. I’m in the Spirit’s grip.

Even when I wander, I don’t have to worry. I’m still in one place—his grip. I’m not going very far because God’s got me.

He’s got you too, friend.

So it’s safe to reconnect, then remain connected, because God never disconnected. His Spirit had us and his Spirit’s got us.

In other words, as John 15 says, we can abide. We can rest and “remain in a place”—even suspended in midair. By remaining connected, we can “bear much fruit.” We begin to create an abundant life. We begin his creative process with step one—remain connected.

Taken from When Your World Ends by Dawn Mann Sanders. ©2024 by Dawn Mann Sanders. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.