Years ago I had the opportunity to visit Tokyo. Of all the cities in the world, Tokyo is certainly among my favorites. The Japanese people express a level of elegance, simplicity, and beauty that has always evoked my admiration. On this occasion, I had the opportunity to speak at an event within walking distance of the Shibuya Station. Because of the cultural and spiritual background of the Japanese people, I had been warned that there would be no openness to the message of Jesus.
My lectures on creativity and spirituality were scheduled for several days. I remember very few things about that experience, but there is one person I will never forget. The event organizers were thrilled that a renowned Japanese artist happened to attend the opening event. It was unexpected since she was not a person of faith, nor did she live within hours of Shibuya itself. Yet every day she returned. Every day she took multiple trains, more than a two-hour journey each way, to attend my lectures.
On the last day of the event, she decided to approach me. I sensed a level of intention and urgency that was both unusual and unexpected. I quickly realized that her unexpected openness to the message of Jesus had little to do with the content of my talks. She explained to me that her brother had recently passed away. The reason she kept returning every day was that I looked just like her brother.
I am pretty certain that I have no Japanese DNA in my blood. Though I have been mistaken in many parts of the world as a native of a variety of countries, this particular comparison came quite unexpectedly. It was strange to hear a well-known Japanese creative tell me that I looked like her brother. One thing I knew for certain was that her experience had little to do with what I looked like and everything to do with what she needed to see. I have often wondered if God knew that for her to see Jesus in me, she needed to see her brother in me first. I do not remember her name, but we will always be connected. Unexplainable phenomena such as these are no longer a surprise to me. I expect to stand in divine intersections. The warrior expects the unexpected. The warrior exists in the transcendent. The warrior moves and expects the universe to move with them.
It seems absurd that Adam and Eve could affect the entire universe with one choice. We have understood how their choice to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil influenced their relationship with God, but I am convinced we have underestimated how it affects humanity’s relationship to all creation. God told the man and the woman that if they ate from the tree they would surely die, and since then we have attempted to calculate what consequences that moment would have for the human condition and our relationship to the God who created us.
For far too long we’ve ignored the implications of the relationship between us and the universe. Even those of us who recognize that our souls groan for redemption have not considered that the universe groans as well. Yet that is exactly what Scripture tells us—that all of creation longs for its redemption and that creation itself has been torn by our actions. Nature’s turmoil mirrors our soul’s turmoil. Creation’s disarray is subject to the condition of the human heart.
It’s easy for us to forget that we do not exist within creation but in fact are part of creation. Creation was designed to be connected to our choices. One of the consequences of the Fall, beyond our disconnection with God, is a disconnection with creation. The universe was designed to sustain life. The universe exists for the single purpose of providing what we need to live.
We take for granted the remarkable relationship between what we need to live and how creation is designed to the minute detail to match our needs. We need water, and it is specifically designed to quench our thirst and meet our needs. We need food to satiate our hunger, and both vegetables and fruit happen to grow exactly as needed to sustain life. We need oxygen to breathe, and oddly enough our atmosphere is conveniently made up of a perfect composition that keeps us from suffocating.
Still, it goes deeper than this connection. We do not simply exist in nature; we are part of both nature and the universe. When we are born, we are nearly 80 percent water. When we dive into the ocean, 80 percent of us belongs there. You are literally wet both inside and out. Your mass is made up of approximately 65 percent oxygen. You are more than half the same as the atmosphere around you.
When we breathe, we inhale creation and make it part of us; then we exhale carbon dioxide. We don’t identify it as such, but breathing is actually a creative process. We transform what we consume into something distinctly different that we release back into creation. What we release provides life for the very plants that protect the oxygen that gives us life. We are organically part of creation and the creative process. Simply by existing, we create an ebb and flow. We breathe the universe in and release the universe that lives within us to return to the whole. Even the trees consume what we create, and we consume what the forest creates. Our flesh and bone will one day return to dust, and in that sense, we are all bound to the earth and are part of it.
For as long as you have breath and with every beat of your heart, there is an electrical fire igniting within you the life that pumps inside your veins. If there was no fire within you, there would be no life within you. In the same way that you are water and wind, you are also both earth and fire. All creation is within you, is part of you. What you experience in the universe outside of you also exists in the universe within you. The universe literally flows through you.
The boundaries we perceive are largely illusions, or, at best, distortions of reality. The universe has one intention: to create life. The universe within you has one divine intention: to create life. Out of the dust, God created us. Out of his breath, he gave us life. We were made of the universe and made to rule over it.
God established humanity as the agent responsible for the health and well-being of all creation. I am convinced that before our relationship with God was severed, we lived not only in oneness with him and each other but with all creation. This connectedness is central to the way of the warrior. Imagine living in such a relationship not only with God but with creation, where all the universe is leveraged for your success. I love how novelist Paulo Coelho poetically describes how the entire universe conspires on our behalf.82 He is not wrong. Those who misunderstand this reality attribute a consciousness to the universe that it does not actually have. The universe does not know you, nor choose for or against you, but the Creator of the universe does. He knows you intimately.
The God who created everything, in the truest sense, created nothing for himself. Everything expresses his essence, and everything is designed to give him glory and pleasure, but there is nothing that he ever created because he needed it. God does not need the universe. The universe, though seemingly infinite to us and ever-expanding and immeasurably complex, is still too small for God. In this sense the universe does not exist for God; it exists for us. God didn’t create the solar system and the atmosphere on this planet for himself. He doesn’t need air to breathe or water to drink; we do.
Could it be any clearer that creation, though created by God, was created for us? And even here we see how God designed everything to be interconnected. The water we drink provides exactly what our bodies need so that we can have not only our thirst quenched but our bodies made whole.
There is a paradox in our relationship with the universe. The universe could exist without us, but we could not exist without the universe. The solar system could exist without us, but we could not exist without this particular solar system. The earth could exist without us, but we could not exist without the earth. The atmosphere could exist without us, but we could not exist without this incredibly specific atmosphere. The water that covers this planet could exist without us, but we could not exist without its water. The oxygen we breathe could exist without us, but we could not exist without this oxygen.
The universe is not dependent on our existence, but we are completely dependent on the universe’s existence. If the universe did not fulfill its intention, it would be the
end of life as we know it. It is undeniable that the universe is not dependent on us but that we are dependent on the universe. It’s a little unnerving when you consider how fragile our existence is in relationship to all of creation.
To make it more personal, the intention of the entire universe points directly to you. Even though you are part of creation and exist within creation, you are God’s ultimate and most valued creative act. The entire universe exists so that you might live. Although the entire universe is reflective of the creative essence of God, you have the distinction of being created in the image and likeness of him. Only humanity bears the creative image of its Creator.
You are both within creation and above creation. While humanity seems the most fragile component of the universe, only humans carry within them both the creation and the Creator. Scripture tells us that humanity is God’s preeminent creation. He commanded humanity to take dominion and rule over creation. The health of the entire earth was entrusted to the care of this delicate species we call humanity.
When the warrior is one with creation, they see beauty all around them. When the warrior is one with the universe, they are filled with wonder and awe. When the warrior is one with nature, they find their souls at rest. The warrior honors creation but only worships the Creator. It is dangerous to choose a path that makes you blind to the beauty all around you. The warrior finds themselves often and unexpectedly overwhelmed by the beautiful. Though the warrior has known many battles, they find nothing to be as overwhelming as the beauty that compels them to live. The way of the warrior never loses sight of the elegance, artistry, and exquisiteness that surround them on every step of their journey. The warrior is never overwhelmed by the grandness of the universe but is elevated by it. To know that you are part of the universe is to know that you are connected to something bigger than yourself.
The Bible tells us that all creation declares the glory of God. Although the rest of the world may grow deaf to such declarations, the warrior cannot help but hear them. The warrior looks at creation and is filled with wonder and is moved to worship. The warrior lives in a state of awe. While others look for proof of God, the warrior finds it everywhere. The way of the warrior is a life of worship.
The warrior also understands their stewardship over creation. Creation is a gift from God to humanity and must be treated with honor and respect. We cannot say we respect the Creator if we treat his creation with disrespect. The most skilled warrior has learned never to leave a footprint where they have walked. The warrior seeks to live in harmony with creation. The warrior understands the elegant balance that holds nature together. The warrior can be trusted with creation because they live to honor the Creator.
The ancient poets describe our relationship with God by saying we live and breathe and have our being in him, yet this could easily be the way one would describe our relationship with oxygen.83 In the same way that a fish can live only in water, so we can live only breathing in this particular atmosphere that God created. The oxygen that exists outside of us brings us life as it seeps through every cell in our bodies. We walk on the earth, yet we are also composed of it. We do not simply exist in creation; we are part of creation. Is it possible that we have underestimated the destructive power of disconnectedness? When nature seems to bend to the will of God and man, we call it a miracle. Is it possible that what we define as a miracle is simply the reestablishing of the proper order of creation?
One with the God of Creation
Elijah lived a life that many would consider to be unbelievable. Almost knowing that we might discount Elijah’s story, James tells us that Elijah was a man just like us. With intention, Elijah prayed that it would not rain, and for three and a half years that is exactly what happened.84
When we read about a miracle of such an extreme nature, we quickly attribute it to the nature of God. But what if it also has as much to do with the nature of man? What if we are more than we know and in our disconnection with God have become less than we were ever meant to be? What if part of what makes prayer so powerful is that it reestablishes the proper relationship with God, with each other, and with creation. The warrior knows that prayer is their greatest weapon. Prayer is the warrior’s sword, and they must learn to wield it well. The warrior knows that prayer is far more than simply speaking to God. The power of prayer comes from hearing from God, and prayer becomes our sword when we speak in concert with him.
After three and a half years, Elijah still found himself in a great conflict with two of Israel’s darkest rulers, Ahab and Jezebel. There hadn’t been a drop of rain in more than three years and suddenly Elijah told Ahab that he heard the sound of a heavy rain. The skies were clear. There were no clouds to be found anywhere. The land was parched and thirsty. There were children who had no memory of what rain looked like, felt like, or sounded like. Yet Elijah heard the sound of something that had not yet come. It’s almost as if creation was speaking to him even as he had spoken to it years before.85 How strange that Elijah could hear the sound of the heavy rain long before the first drops touched the ground.
I am reminded how Adam and Eve hid in their nakedness because they heard the sound of God walking in the garden. Imagine being able to hear the sound of God walking. For most of us, he is painfully silent. It’s hard enough for most of us to hear the voice of God. Imagine living in such intimacy with God that you could identify the sound of his steps.
Elijah climbed to the top of Carmel, bent down to the ground, and put his face between his knees. He commanded his servant to go to the sea, look to the sky, and report what he had found. But when he went and looked, there was nothing there. Yet somehow Elijah was undiscouraged. He sent the servant back six times, and each time, the servant would come back with the same report: that there was nothing there.86
I am convinced that most of us would have quit at this point. We would have put more confidence in what was seen than what we heard. I know it sounds absurd, but Elijah was hearing sounds from the future. He was listening to what was yet to come. It was the seventh time when the report changed. On the seventh time, the servant saw a small cloud, a cloud the size of a fist, rising from the sea.
I suppose in most cases the servant would have overlooked the seemingly insignificant sign, but if you look hard enough and keep looking long enough, you will see the first signs of the future being ushered in. That was all the confirmation Elijah needed. And we are told that immediately afterward the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, and a heavy rain began to fall.
Even many of us who are believers put stories like this into the category of mythology. What if they are in fact a glimpse into what has been lost? What if miracles look like aberrations because we have accepted the world as it is and not as it should be? What if you’re supposed to be able to hear the sound of the coming rain, if only you knew how to listen?
In this moment, we see the layers of the connectedness of the activity of God in human history. Elijah had a soul knowledge, in which he knew before it actually happened. Elijah’s servant could not see into the unknown, but he was aware at the first sign. Ahab, whose heart was rebellious against God, came to know only after the rain began to fall. And there were probably masses who never even understood that the drought and the downpour were both connected to the activity of God and who forever remained unaware. The warrior hears the rain before it falls. They hear from God when he speaks; they speak to God and he listens; and together they speak to creation and creation moves toward its intention.
The warrior hears the whisper in the wind. The warrior can also whisper to the wind. The warrior does not move into the future from the present. The warrior moves into the present from the future. The way of the warrior is to hear what cannot be heard, to see what cannot be seen, to know what cannot be known. The way of the warrior cannot be walked with instructions from God; it can be walked only through intimacy with him. The warrior does not know where they
are going; they know who they are following. The warrior marks their path not by destination but by Presence.
Speak to the Wind
It was September 22, 2016, and I was giving the closing message of the evening at the Mosaic Conference at the theater in the Ace Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. I have spoken an endless number of messages at a countless number of places, and most of them I would have been hard pressed to remember, but this one I will never forget. That day, I recounted a vision described by Ezekiel as he stood in the Valley of Dry Bones. I spoke on how Ezekiel talked to the wind, how he commanded the four winds to come and move and bring life. He stood at the edge of the Valley of Dry Bones and commanded them to breathe and live. He called the wind from the north, from the south, from the east, and from the west and told dry bones to live.87
I remember declaring that we are the descendants of those who spoke to the wind and the wind had to bend to their wills—that when we hear the voice of the one who created us and embrace his intention for us, it is then that we discover the power of our own voices and how prayer is more than an exercise in futility. We have the power to speak to the wind. After all, if the Creator of the universe would act on our behalf, how in the world can his creation ignore us?
The strangest thing happened that night. As more than a thousand people exited the building, Los Angeles was suddenly hit with an unexpected and uncharacteristic windstorm. The wind blew with such force that the electricity went out in the area where we lived. We had a small gathering planned for that evening at our house, where the leaders who came from around the world would join us. It was surreal to stand together in a pitch-black room with the wind howling all around us. No one needed to say anything. It was almost as if God extended the message. Years after that evening had come to an end, I am still convinced that the timing was not incidental, that God was speaking through creation, that he was confirming there is more power in us than we know.
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