A Jacket is Not Enough

The breeze bit against the young man's body through his jacket.

Normally, warmth is something taken for granted. (Finitude has a remarkable ability of finding someone out.) Though the clouds do not obscure the sun--though a man could still bathe in the warm rains of his world--the clouds still cast a shadow and the proverbial man still finds himself chilled.

God could have cut His creative work short and left it with the definitive remark, "Good." If anyone cuts such corners, it is not God. If anyone remains unsatisfied with simple "good," it is God. The God who demands perfection from sinners according to His righteous character could never settle for anything less than perfection in His own work. Thus, God created His masterpiece--opting to make her of rib instead of the dust of the earth. He veiled her in long hair and gave her the power to sustain the generations of mankind. "Very good."

Wind is by nature a finite force, exacting its will without regard to those within its folds, yet bound to pass as a word spoken and forgotten. It enshrouds man within the walls of its blustery tomb for a moment, leaving a cacophony of silence in its wake. Who fills the silence, but God, the Master-Craftsman?

The young man thought to himself, "A jacket is not enough."