Chapter 8: Restoring the Creator-Creature Relationship

The core of human misery lies in a broken relationship between us and our Creator. The Fall wasn't just a failure of obedience—it was a shift in attitude. We stopped seeing ourselves as creatures and started acting like rivals. Salvation, at its heart, is about restoring that original relationship—bringing us back into proper alignment with the One who made us.

This restoration isn't just a legal transaction; it's a deep transformation. Through Jesus, God makes reconciliation possible. Through the Spirit, that reconciliation becomes real in our experience. Like the prodigal son, we return home—not as strangers, but as children regaining our rightful place under a loving Father's authority.

To restore order, we must start with God. He is the fixed center. When He said "I AM," He wasn't being poetic. He was declaring absolute existence. Everything else is measured against Him. All creation, including us, is meaningful only in relation to Him. Our lives become aligned the moment we put God where He belongs: first, highest, above all.

But we struggle with this. We want to bend God to fit our preferences, to make Him easier to live with. We shrink from His holiness, His authority. We want a softer sentence for our flesh. But God doesn't adjust. We must. The pursuit of God begins when we decide to exalt Him above everything—our desires, our plans, even ourselves.

This decision is no minor shift. It separates us from the world, because the world doesn't honor God. Many invoke His name, but few place Him above comfort, ambition, or self. But the person who chooses to lift God high—who says with their life, "Be Thou exalted"—finds clarity, peace, and a new power animating their soul.

The complications of the Christian life fall away. A secret spiritual gravity begins to steer the heart, always back toward God.

Surrendering to God doesn't mean losing dignity—it's the opposite. Our dishonor came when we tried to take His place. Real honor is restored when we give that throne back. Every other master we serve is cruel by comparison. Sin enslaves us. But God's rule is kind, gentle, and freeing.

This isn't about empty words or private feelings. God's demand to be exalted is real. And it applies to every area of life—our money, friendships, comfort, reputation. To say "Be Thou exalted" is to lay everything down. But in doing so, we find joy, strength, and purpose. God pours out His kindness on those who give Him their all.

Still, there's a danger: that we'll agree with this in our minds, but our wills will lag behind. That we'll admire the idea of surrender but never do it. But partial surrender is no surrender at all. God wants the whole person—not just belief, but decision, devotion, action.

And when we finally yield, God responds. He reveals Himself. He honors those who honor Him. He trusts those whose hearts are wholly His. His glory fills their vision. His power fills their weakness. His presence transforms their days. This is the life we were made for—creatures, finally restored to their Creator.

O God, be lifted high above everything I own. Let nothing I possess ever matter more than bringing You glory. Be exalted above my friendships—even if it means standing alone. Be exalted above my comforts—even if it brings pain. Be exalted above my reputation—let me seek only to please You, even if I fade into obscurity. Rise above my ambitions, my opinions, my health, even my very life. Let me diminish so You may increase. Ride upon my life as You once rode into Jerusalem on a humble colt. And let my heart echo the cry, "Hosanna in the highest." Amen.