On Dominion

At Al and Ella’s there is a garden.

Ok, that’s a gross understatement. There are lots of gardens.

But by this one particular garden there is a fence. And on the other side of this fence is a forest.

A wilderness, if you will, full of all the things that are in wild forests: Trees, weeds, vines, grasses, fallen logs, animals and snakes and mushrooms of all kinds, I am positive. It’s completely uncut; no one has a handle on it.
And if I am being honest, I also want to say that it’s pretty much the boss. Yeah, there is a fence up, but what good does that do against things that grow whether you put them there or not? That fence doesn’t stop those things from coming where they shouldn’t, we just have to keep pulling up those roots and spraying the weeds.

I started a regular exercise program about two years ago. With the exception of a knee injury here, and a few weeks of brutal cold or heat there, I have pretty much been going strong. But in speaking of brutal cold (ok, this winter wasn’t brutal cold…but I did need to wear coats and gloves and boots still), the winter brings different kind of exercises. I can’t be outside running around or biking or whatever, so I have to resort to things I can do in front of a tv screen. Like pilates, and push-ups, and double leg-lifts.

Those things are not really cardio type exercises, so while my balance was REALLY good, I am very convinced that my lung capacity left something to be desired.

The weather is unreasonably warm (yes, I said unReasonably, in addition to being unSeasonal), and while I hate to say goodbye to winter so early, it would be wrong of me to not be outside doing something. Like running.

Did I mention that I haven’t been doing any cardio for like….let’s say….4 months? That’s like 120 days, which is 1/3 of a year. No cardio. No pumping breath into me.
Yikes.

 And with this warm weather the gardens have started springing like mad and very soon, so will the weeds.

I am absolutely confident of it. Almost as faithful as the morning is the faithfulness of crab grass.

 All this to say, last fall I sat on a bench one morning with my coffee, looking at that fence and the encroaching forest I just talked about, my hair still all askew and my pajamas unkempt, and I thought about the word DOMINION. And particularly how I had NOT exerted dominion over myself yet that morning. I was as unkempt as the forest.

 This forest is actually the majority of the land that Al and Ella own. The only thing not wild is the area they dug up, planted, built, painted, weeded, cleaned, repaired, lived in. These areas where they have exerted dominion are now their domain. Their corner of the earth. The hollow they etched out of the forest.

But this word Dominion. It goes back to another garden, doesn’t it?

Genesis 1:28 “God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

To SUBDUE something is to exercise dominion over something.

To show it who is boss.

It became very apparent to me this month while making my first runs of the season that there is absolutely no dominion yet over my lack-of-cardio-for-months lungs. Over my body. It didn’t want to do what I was telling it to do.

But shouldn’t it do what I was telling it to do?
And isn’t it all the same stuff? Houses and gardens and bodies? Aren’t these all things that God has given us, to be responsible for, to manage, to exercise dominion over?

If left to their own devices all of these things would end up dying fast. They would be taken over. In all things being touched by the curse, my lungs are a reminder that I, too, am easily taken over. Dominion rapidly dissipates in this curse-filled world.

We put up fences in gardens, but fences don’t stop weeds. Fences don’t stop the curse.

It reminds me of the passage in Job where God kind of put a fence up.

“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, “This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’?” (Job 38:8-11)

See, the very nature of God is to be boss. To tell things how far they will go and then no more.

It’s part of the image of God that we display, the part of making boundaries, the part of exerting dominion. We are fulfilling our duty. We are not being overcome by the curse of weeds and decay.

Not being overcome by the curse.

You know, when humanity was cursed in that garden so long ago, the curse didn’t change the image we were made in; it changed how that image is lived out. Now we don’t just plant, we toil. Now we don’t just run, we breathe heavily. Now we don’t just build, we repair. Now we don’t just eat, we delay death. Now we don’t just sleep, we ward off exhaustion.

Do you see the changes that were made?
It didn’t change what we were supposed to do (exert dominion) as much as it changed HOW we do it (through painful toil and the sweat of our brows).  

And I think that is what the devil hates the most. It didn’t change US. We are still MADE IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. That part he couldn’t get his grips on. See, the devil doesn’t want to be reminded that we bear the image of the One more powerful than him. Of the One who has shown him who’s boss.

Oh sure, the devil does a pretty good job of growing weeds and making my muscles tight and leaving my lungs without oxygen and making me feel overwhelmed by my already-redeemed sin---of trying to exert HIS dominion over me. But the mere fact that I am out there, making my body do what I want it to, or refusing to let those weeds choke out the rose bushes, or breaking off all of my spiritual bondages, well, I think he hates that, too. Because I, no longer under the curse of sin, don’t have to play by his rules anymore. He is no longer an encroaching forest in my life. He tries to be, he tries to come up under all of those fences, but he doesn’t want to admit that God has put up a boundary around me and said, “This far you may come, but no further.”

See, when we exert dominion over whatever, whatever God has rightfully given us to exert it over, we are making a proclamation to the world and to the devil that Christ has overcome all of these things. That Christ has dominion over us. That we are no longer under that curse. That weeds have no power to choke us anymore. That heavy breathing cannot make us stop.

Maybe this is all just jumbled, or maybe I am on a spite-the-devil kick lately, but it gives me encouragement when I am running, or repairing, or pulling weeds, or righting something in me that is contrary to God: The curse has already been overcome in me; I am just telling the world one pulled-out-weed or one breathless-step at a time.