A Letter to the God of 'Again'
To the God of again,
You told the sun to rise this morning, again. For an innumerable number of days, you have told it to hover over the horizon and arc across the sky, its heat pouring down. Tonight, you will tell it to set, again. For an innumerable number of days, you have told it to sink below the horizon, cloaking the earth in shadows and darkness.
You have told the trees to bear fruit, again. For an innumerable number of days, you have told them to sink their roots deep into the soil, soaking up the rains falling from the heavens.
You have told the stars to shine and flicker and fall, night after night after night. Again and again and again.
For generations you have told the spring rains to come, the summer heat to bear down, the autumn leaves to fall, and the winter snow to blanket the earth. Again and again and again. And yet you have never grown tired of the monotony of it all.
For over 12,000 days, you have told my heart to beat—thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. Again and again. All without me telling it to. For over 12,000 days, you have told my cells to grow and multiply and divide, again and again. All without me commanding them to. For over 12,000 days, you have filled my lungs with air—inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling.
Again and again. All without me reminding them to do so.
THE GOD WHO DELIGHTS IN AGAIN
You are the God who delights in doing it all again. A hundred billion times over, again.
G.K. Chesterton spoke of you in his book, Orthodoxy:
Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, 'Do it again'; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately but has never got tired of making them. It may be that he has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.
Jesus, I am so grateful you are the God who never grows tired of “again.” I'm so grateful you are strong enough to exult in monotony. You created each of your children, every star in the sky, and the cattle on a thousand hills. You made them each separately and never grew weary in the process.
You are not like us. We get frustrated with refrains. We get frustrated when we have to repeat ourselves even just once. We are far too easily worn out from patterns and repetition and tediousness. We have no idea what it is like to exult in monotony.
I am grateful you are not like me, not like us.
EXULTING IN MONOTONY
You never grow weary in making all things new. You never grow weary in redeeming what is broken. You never grow weary in forgiving sinful people. You never grow weary of pouring out your justice and mercy and kindness and grace. You never grow weary, ever. You have done it all for thousands upon thousands of generations, and yet none of it ever gets old to you, none of it ever gets routine or tedious.
Because where would I be if you had grown weary of redeeming your children and stopped with Adam and Eve? "That's enough. I can't go through this again." Where would I be if you had grown weary of transforming sinful people and stopped with the Israelites? "I am tired of putting up with their rebellious and stiff-necked ways. Never again." Where would I be if you had grown weary of telling the dead to rise and stopped with the Valley of Dry Bones? "I am worn out from sustaining people. This can't happen again." Where would I be if you had stopped with king David and refused to forgive transgressions? “I can’t be bothered with their sins anymore.”
I would not be here if you had not exulted in the monotony. I would not be saved. I would not be set apart. I would not have a beating heart. I would not have lungs full of air. Nothing in the whole wide world would exist if you did not exult in monotony. It is in your very nature to never grow weary of sameness.
“I would not be here if you had not exulted in the monotony.”
Your servant Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 1:15-16, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those would who believe on him and receive eternal life."
Your unlimited patience saved sinners like Paul, like me. Your unlimited patience showed me mercy when I did not deserve it.
Your unlimited patience said, "Do it again."
THE SONG THAT NEVER ENDS
Someday I will learn to exult in monotony, just as you do. I may not be the one telling the sun to rise every morning and to set every evening. I may not be the one who makes the daisies a hundred billion times over without growing weary. But I will be the one who will join "each of the four living creatures...[as] day and night they never stop saying, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty who was, and is, and is to come" (Rev. 4:8).
That’s the song of which I'll never grow weary. I will never grow tired of singing your praises. I will never grow faint in delighting in your presence and glory and magnificence and perfection. Never. For all eternity, I will exult in the monotony of worshiping you, singing the same refrains over and over again, without fail. I will join the elders and the angels and the creatures and the cloud of witnesses, and together we will sing forever and ever without end that you are the God of again.
So, Jesus, until that day comes, teach me to exult in the monotony of the here and now until I reach then and there.
Teach me to never grow weary in confessing my sins to you, again. Teach me to never grow weary in forgiving others who have sinned against me, again. Teach me to never grow weary in asking for your mercy, again. Teach me to never grow weary in encouraging others, again. Teach me to never grow weary in submitting my pride to you, again. Teach me to never grow weary in trusting you, again. Teach me to never grow weary in doing good, again.
Teach me, Jesus, to delight in you, again.
Amen.
Courtney Yantes spends her days as an event planner, coordinating events and conferences designed to inspire change and promote access for people with disabilities. She graduated from William Woods University with a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s in business administration. She enjoys blogging, traveling, and generally organizing anything she can get her hands on. She is a lover of all things Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and relishes a life free of social media accounts.