John 1:2

The Gospel of John opens differently from any other account of Jesus's life. While Matthew and Luke begin with his birth, John reaches back before time itself. He calls Jesus 'the Word' — a term his Greek-speaking audience would recognize as the animating logic and ordering principle of all reality. This single line — 'He was with God in the beginning' — establishes something enormous: Jesus didn't come into existence in Bethlehem. He already existed before creation, in intimate relationship with God. The phrase intentionally echoes the very first words of the Bible: 'In the beginning, God created...' John is saying that the one who walked Galilee was present at that moment — not as a spectator, but as a participant.

God, before the first word was spoken, you were there — together, in relationship, in love. It's more than I can fully hold. Help me worship what I can't fully comprehend, and let the vastness of who you are make my small fears feel exactly that small. Amen.

"He was with God in the beginning." Five words that casually shatter the edges of human imagination. Before the first galaxy ignited. Before the first breath. Before the concept of "before" even made sense — he was there. Not waiting in the wings. Not becoming something. Just there, present with God, in a relationship older than time. John reaches back past history, past creation, past every story ever told, to say: the one you're reading about isn't a man who became significant. He always was. There's something quietly staggering about letting that actually land. When you pray — even the stumbling, uncertain, 3 AM kind of prayer — you're not calling into an empty universe. You're reaching toward someone who was present at the very first word God ever spoke. Whatever today holds for you — doubt, wonder, grief, the bland sameness of a Wednesday — the one at the center of this story has been present longer than the stars. That's not a small thing. Maybe it's worth sitting with for a full, unhurried minute.