I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what living in flesh must’ve been like for Jesus. To be a carpenter, working with wood. . .the wood that his Father created. How did it feel for him who had connection like no other to the Maker of the universe to encounter creation? Did he have flashbacks when he picked up a rock or walked on the dirt, remembering the formation of mountains, glaciers, waters and minerals? When he touched the veins on a leaf or felt the wings of an insect did see the inner workings and pulse of life?
When he shaved and sanded each piece of furniture, did he reflect on the ultimate reason for his being on earth, knowing it would end on that very piece of creation in his hand? I wonder what the expanse of the heavens looked like and how he saw each living thing.
How could he not have handled everything with tenderness knowing its beginning, middle and end?
I wish I could see something, anything that completely.