In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. Genesis 1:1-2
Be still.
In my science mind I had always imagined this hovering as a tumultuous, swirling chaos, an intensely potent explosion of pulsing energy.
Hummingbirds are beautiful, but they seem a bit jittery in their hovering. In the education world we call them helicopter parents.
And the English teacher mind is not so fond of the hover word either. Verb : hover - be undecided about something; waver between conflicting positions or courses of action; oscillate, vacillate, vibrate, hesitate, waffle, waver, shillyshally - be uncertain and vague, hang over, as of something threatening, dark, or menacing; loom, menacing, burdensome, or oppressive; eclipse, overshadow, dominate.
But there is another sense of hovering.
Wait.
Complete.
I AM.
He shielded him and cared for him;
He guarded him as the apple of His eye,
like an eagle that stirs up its nest
and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them aloft.
And The LORD God who sees for all eternity spoke over the void, fully aware of the hurricanesandtornadoesandtragi candbrokenandrebellionandgrief andalltheotherwordsspitoutbyNP Rradio but He is God.
And He saw that it was good.
Be still.
Though the darkness be noisy with systems,
Dark fancies that fret and disprove,
Still the plumes stir around us, above us
The wings of the shadow of love:
Oh! Princes and priests, have ye seen it
Grow pale through your scorn;
Huge dawns sleep before us, deep changes,
A child is born.
“A Nativity” G. K. Chesterton
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