There came a moment in my walk with God when I realized I was not who I thought I was.
I was dust, beautifully shaped, intentionally molded, but still dust.
And yet, in that same breath, I was divine, because the breath of God had entered me.
That revelation changed everything.
You see, in Genesis 1, God declares, “Let Us make man in Our image.” It’s a royal decree, an announcement of divine intent. Humanity, both male and female, spoken into existence, bearing the mark of Heaven.
But in Genesis 2, the story slows down. The language becomes intimate. No longer “Let there be,” but “And the Lord God formed…”
Here, God gets close. He kneels into the soil. His hands, those same hands that flung the stars into orbit, press into the dust and sculpt the first human being. And then, the miracle: He breathes.
That’s when I understood something powerful about my own life.
God didn’t just speak me into existence; He formed me.
He didn’t just imagine me; He built me, touched me, and breathed into me.
Every hardship, every failure, every scar, these weren’t random. They were the shaping.
And then, I saw something even deeper.
When Scripture says God made woman from the rib of man, He wasn’t repeating Himself. He was revealing Himself.
Man was formed from the dust, but woman was built from what was already alive. One came from the earth; the other from the heart. The Hebrew word used for her creation, banah, literally means “to build, to establish, to make something enduring.”
So when God made woman, He wasn’t just forming a helper. He was building legacy.
He was showing that relationship, community, and purpose come not from isolation but from divine connection.
And that’s when it hit me:
God is always in the business of forming and building.
He forms you when He’s creating your foundation.
He builds you when He’s preparing your purpose.
When I started seeking a deeper relationship with Jesus, I realized He wasn’t asking me to perform for Him. He was asking me to let Him form me again.
To let Him touch the places I’ve covered with pride, fear, and survival.
To breathe His Spirit back into the parts of me that had turned to dust.
And just like Adam, I had to learn to rest. God put Adam into a deep sleep before creating Eve; because sometimes God has to quiet us before He can complete us.
In stillness, He does His best work.
In surrender, He brings forth what we could never make on our own.
So now, when I look at Genesis, I don’t see two creation stories.
I see two sides of God’s heart. His power and His intimacy.
I see a God who speaks universes but touches souls.
A God who calls both man and woman “very good.”
A God who still breathes into dust today; breathing new life into broken dreams, weary faith, and wounded hearts.
If you’re reading this, maybe you’ve been wondering why life feels like it’s falling apart.
Maybe you’ve been asking God, “Why am I being stretched, shaped, pressed like clay?”
The answer may be simpler and more sacred than you think:
You’re not being destroyed. You’re being formed.
You are the dust He’s molding, and the breath He’s filling.
You are the rib He’s building, and the story He’s writing.
And when you rise from that process, you won’t just be whole, you’ll be holy.
Because when God forms you twice, the second time, you don’t just exist…
You live.