The Anatomy of Positive Deconstruction
Psalm 40:2 - He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
Deconstruction can be as the pits to Joseph - in the beginning and middle, brutal - but, in the end, an outrageous blessing.
To start, what do we experience in this place of unraveling deconstruction? Desperation. We cry out from the depths of ourselves, feeling a weight that pulls us into the center of our chests to a location that feels impossible and not accurately describable:
Psalm 6:3 - My soul is in deep anguish. How long, Lord, how long?
We sit as Job when everything he had was taken away - all his possessions gone, all his children dead:
Job 1:28 - Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground
Total collapse. However. Something is left. Something virtually imperceptible. There’s no hope. Except there is:
Psalm 69:3 - I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched. My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God.
God is still there. What does Job do when he fell on the ground?
Job 1:29 - “[he] worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
God gave non-eseentials. God removed non-essentials. But God remains. Blessed be his name in its greatness - in its enough-ness. Job acknowledged God. He thanked him - blessed him.
In the fiercest danger - even when being torn apart by deconstruction, God remains. All is stripped away except him.
He’s purifying us from all our outrageous awfulness, removing the dross and impurities, cleaning the dirtiness:
Malachi 3:2 (NIV) - But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap.
He flies to intercede for us - steps in to save us from ourselves - from our silly self-constructed God-less mini-worlds.