Don’t touch a miracle.
They were completely amazed. “How can this be?” they exclaimed. — Acts 2:7
In late 2015, the notion to paint a painting for the Harford Fair hit and hit hard. I was going to do this. I was going to get my entry in there. Never mind reading the submission/rule book and the accepted size for entries. But that’s another story.
Talk about joy! I had a honkin’ canvas I bought on sale at the craft store a few years ago. Almost 3’ x 4’, this pristine white goodness of raw potential shouted WALL art.
But as the creation moved along, it wasn’t always art. But then again, it was for a few seconds. And then it wasn’t. And then it was. And then it wasn’t. See, I do this thing with painting on a canvas: I get it right, and then screw it up.
I paint too much. I don’t paint too many paintings; I paint one painting too many times. I’d get something right, maybe a brush stroke with the ear, or the shading of the tongue — yes, it would be right (or right-ish, my stuff will never hang in a museum), and then, hot-diggity-dog, I just couldn’t leave it alone. I’d try for better and screw it up.
That’s what happens here in Acts 2. It’s Pentecost. It’s one of the most exciting events in church history. A sound from heaven roars like a mighty windstorm and filled the house where everyone was sitting. The word ‘awesome’ totally fits here, and this is BEFORE every worshipper began speaking in another language.
It’s an understatement to say that this was the event of all events, a once in a lifetime wonder. A miracle. They were completely amazed. And then, like I do with painting, they didn’t just leave it alone. They didn’t let it be. They had to start wondering. They had to start poking at it, bringing logic and reason into the realm of God.
We do that, too. And we do it too often. Now I love science. I’m all excited, for example, about a NASA mission next year where a craft named after Eugene N. Parker will fly toward the sun. Sometimes wondering why or how something works is good. Really good.
Sometimes it’s not.
Let God be God. Leave the mystery alone. If you try to figure it out, if you poke and poke at it, you’re not hurting the miracle, you’re hurting yourself.
PRAYER: God, show me another miracle. I promise I’ll just be spellbound by it. Amen.