Pumpkin Spice and the Creation of Life
I am going to say one of the most controversial statements ever spoken in upstate New York. Ready? Here it goes: Pumpkin Spice is gross. You flannel-loving fall folks can unleash your outrage on me at will; I stand by what I said. I don’t know what about the chilling air reawakens this madness every year, but it’s multiplying in droves. A quick Amazon search produced no less than 4,000 pumpkin spice related results, including candles, coffee, beer, seltzer, creamer, muffin mix, chapstick, gum, body wash, and even scented trash bags. It’s nuts. Come fall, this is a pumpkin-spiced world and we’re simply living in it.
Yet, even amidst the flavor faux-pas that eclipses the season, the fall is always a time I look forward to. Clothing becomes layered, days grow shorter, and life finds a cadence that feels like an invitation to come home. I’ve been thinking about these rhythms as of late, how God creates them in nature, and in us. This is part of his design, and there is order to it.
Think about the cycles that exist in our world — it’s incredible. The seasons that give time and balance to our world, the water cycle that feeds, cleans and sustains it, the carbon cycle, the nitrogen cycle, the photosynthesis cycle, and so on. There is intake and output of all things in their time. More than once I’ve been found speechless at a mountain range or a sunset, never mind the consideration of the intricacies that created them. Our world is amazing.
Yet here’s the kicker, we are even more astounding than all these things combined. In Genesis 1 we learn this in the story of God’s creation. By virtue of simply speaking he makes the day and night, and he calls it good. He speaks into existence the division between heaven and earth, and says it’s good. He creates the division of earth and sea, again all good. Then plants and animals, sun and moon, days and years, good, good, good.
Then something in the narrative shifts. God creates man and woman, and gives us the imprint of his image. Not only does he call us good like everything else, he says within our being we contain the substance that traverses the span between good and “very good” (Genesis 1:31). His creation of our personhood achieves that difference for God. It’s wild.
In fact in Genesis 2:7 we learn a bit more about this distinction of humanity from everything else because when he makes us, God chooses to get his hands dirty, “Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person.”
From the beginning we are different to God. He is involved with our creation differently. He is invested differently. He loves us differently. He experiences us differently. What’s even more wild is this is before we’ve even done anything to earn it. Right from go we are difference-makers to God. If this is hard for you to believe, you aren’t alone. David wrestled with this exact idea over 3,000 years ago.
“When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
human beings that you should care for them?” (Psalm 8:3,4)
I had the opportunity to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City last year with my husband. We weren’t exactly what you’d call organized in our wanderings, but I think a building focused on self-expression could embrace our methodology. When I rounded a corner of one of the galleries I stumbled upon a painting of two sunflowers that immediately caught my attention. In the painting there was no vase or background other than blue, and it had these two large lovely and fading blossoms overlapping in the middle. Though I had never before laid eyes on this painting, in print or otherwise, I immediately knew its artist. The short choppy lines and slight swirl to the colors gave away Van Gogh’s name as clear as day. Artists have a signature that can’t help but come through in their work.
The same is true of God, his signature is all over his art. He loves color, order, diversity, creativity, and rhythm. And what is true of God is always true of God: the signature we see in this amazing world is also in us, to an even greater extent.
Perhaps it’s because I am in a season that feels anything but orderly, but I find deep comfort here. It’s been a tough go lately — repeated and lingering hurts and obstacles plus a never-ending to-do list has left me tired, body and soul. I’m discovering this weariness has colored my relationship with God. I’ve somehow convinced myself that he is distant and uninvolved. Maybe you’ve been here before. It’s not my first time, either. But to continue this way means we’d have to ignore the evidence around all us and the truth of his word.
Between the lines of the creation story in Genesis we can infer God also created the systems and cycles that keep these things healthy and living in the natural world. God is still involved in the process. He delights in turning the wheel of of these rhythms because they are his. His “good” creation is managed with intentionality and consistent care. I have to believe his “very good” creation receives this same care and then some.
In this season, I am coming home to this truth, to my first love. I’m relearning trust in the day-to-day, and working really hard at keeping my eyes up and laying myself down. I’d love it if you and your “very good” self would join me. You can even bring your pumpkin spice latte with you.
