I had a real Job 40 moment a couple of days ago.
We were preparing to defeat the Brown Team at mini-golf, taking a few warm-up swings with our rubber-coated putters, when Paul calls out, “Um, guys? There’s an elephant down here on the sidewalk.”
I turned to look, and sure enough, there was not one, but two young elephants out in front of the mini-golf place, posing for pictures and being fed by the tourists. I couldn’t resist the urge to go see for myself. Though it would delay the game a few minutes, I had to take time out for this unusual circumstance.
Within moments, I was standing face-to-face with a creature more than eight feet tall, watching it eat fruit from the hands of passersby, petting its trunk.
My mind immediately went to the words of God in the fortieth chapter of the Book of Job:
“Behold now, Behemoth, which I made as well as you; He eats grass like an ox.
Behold now, his strength in his loins And his power in the muscles of his belly.
He bends his tail like a cedar; The sinews of his thighs are knit together.
His bones are tubes of bronze; His limbs are like bars of iron.”
–Job 40:15-18
Now, I am of the opinion that the Behemoth is actually a pre-flood brontosaurus, but that’s a discussion for another time. The point here is that I was faced with this enormous animal, and I could only see the wonder of the Creator. What an imagination God has to make a beast this large and powerful, to place such destructive capability in its muscular trunk and in its thunderous feet, and then to make it use that awe-inspiring trunk to feed itself with fruit and plants.
But the wondrous imagination of the Creator is not only on display in the exotic and unusual. Consider the beauty and grace of the horse, the delicacy of the butterfly, or the perfection of the rose blossom. All of these are testimonies of the creativity, artistry, and passion of our God.
Don’t miss these things. Don’t let them pass you by. Take time to stop and pet the elephant.
Though, I wouldn’t recommend
smelling the elephant. For that one, stick to roses.
