Soil: A Medium in Which Something Takes Hold and Develops

“. . .the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” (Genesis 2:7 NIV)

“But for Adam no suitable helper was found. So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.” (Genesis 2:20-22 NIV)

To think of how you embraced the soil of earth, which you spoke into being, cradling an idea in your hands. Did you mix soil with water? As you survey all the materials in your reach, your artist's eye alights  upon dirt—the very medium for growth.

And then you exclaim, “This will do. Yes, indeed. I see it. I will form man out of nothing, yet something.”

In your mercy you choose dust- soil- earth to become the seedbed of humanity. You gather up handfuls mixing it with water—maybe even your own sweat and blood. Wiping sweat from your brow you form the man you imagined. In your work did you pick up a stick to sculpt the features of his face? No, I see you taking this lump of clay into your hands deliberately shaping a body, a forehead, an ear, eyes and a nose.

You are plying your finishing touches, when you take a moment to step back to observe your progress on his face—and a smile breaks across your own. You add a mouth with two lips desiring that he be able to form words just like you. You bend over his form kissing his lips with the breath of life.

Did Adam cough and shudder awake? Did his eyes flutter open, seeing for the first time, the One who sees him—and did he smile back? You reach out your hand lifting him from the ground, the very soil that became his essence—mixed with water and imbued with life giving oxygen. You introduce him to your world.

Later you would see that he needed companionship. You would invite him to recline on that same ground, to take from his form to create a suitable companion—to eat bread with, to amble and admire the garden together and to commune with their Maker.

Did you add the same mixture of soil and water to that rib? Was the rib a structure to build, to sculpt and to shape this next being around—a female image bearer? I imagine your desire to make another human hinges on the joy and satisfaction you experienced in making the first. Similar, but different.

This one would have a womb. Did you knit together her inner person before forming the body around this cradle of civilization? A being that would be able to produce fruit—not like a tree, but in a mysterious, soul-drenched way. In her womb would combine blood, water and soil cells.

Another soul born out of two. A new way of conceiving life. Their bodies designed to become one in the most intimate, delicate and creative act.

An act of love.