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It’s easy to
make a long list of stuff I can’t get through my thick skull. I can’t seem to grasp
football rules. My eyes still glaze over when my husband starts explaining
financial investing. I don’t get how someone ever decided eating oysters was a good
plan. Were they starving to death? I still haven’t figured out who let the dogs
out. How is it that, if every cell in our bodies regenerates every seven years,
our bodies still deteriorate with age? What does IDK stand for, anyway? Nobody seems to know.
Also, I can’t tell you how to get to Sesame Street.
That’s just
a warmup.
The biggest
thing I don’t get, though, has to do with how we all got here. And by “here,” I
mean here, on this planet. A lot of people don’t believe they have a creator
and I want to respect their opinion. But man, it’s hard. I’ve had evolution
explained to me. I just don’t think I could ever muster the level of faith
required to accept it.
The room I
sit in as I write these words is filled with things. I can look around the room
and see each item and I know it was made by someone—some highly intelligent,
creative human. The books, the furniture, the photos, the lamp, the walls
themselves—all designed and assembled by someone. I can’t fathom the hours
involved in the invention of each individual item in this room, let alone add
up all those hours.
Our world abounds
with marvelous man-made creations. I don’t think anyone would argue with that
point. I ask myself what is the most complicated item in this room? My sewing
machine? My piano? My computer? Oh, surely, it’s my computer!
But wait.
I’m in the room, too. And I’m kind of complicated. How can I believe I wasn’t
created? I suppose one could argue that my creator is far more complicated
still, yet I accept that HE doesn’t
have a creator. So where did my creator come from? To say “He is eternal”
sounds like a pat answer. How could someone have no beginning?
Well, I
guess if I knew the answer to that, I could figure out football by now too. If
my puny human mind can’t comprehend the size of our universe, how could it ever
hope to understand the creator of said universe?
That’s where
faith comes in.
As I see it,
you will always be the most complicated thing in any room you enter. So—if all
those less complicated things required a creator, how come you did not? If
anyone wants to enlighten me, I’m open to your explanation. But I’ll warn
you—whoever designed my skull made it good and thick.
Our body is the most amazing machine ever created.....but our soul and mind is everlasting... I don't have any doubt that our creator is responsible for this. The spiritual side of our body is 98% of our being. So how do we tap into that energy?
ReplyDeleteI did a little research about the scientist who made the claim that he had created life in lab, so therefore life could have created itself. Thing is, though, he had a team of 20 scientists working ten years, and millions of dollars, to create a bacteria cell with a brand new DNA.
ReplyDeleteI call it plagiarism. He took a bacteria cell, scooped out the DNA molecules that God made, changed the code a little, put his new DNA molecules made out of amino acids that God made, and after enough trial and error, made an artificial bacteria cell that lived for a day or two. He couldn't replicate the cell membrane.But he, like apparently most scientists today, still believes that out of primordial soup, random amino acids joined up to form a single cell that somehow figured out how to form a membrane to hold itself together and replicate. What did it eat?
Our bodies have about six trillion cells that each contain little DNA factories that are constantly regenerating. As we age, little bits of code fall off and and our cells decay. But it is pretty amazing that it all holds itself together for a few score years. We are wonderfully made.