“Be still, be calm, see, and understand I am the True God.”
(Psalm 46:10, The Voice Bible)
I find it strange when people claim not to believe in God but then profess their faith in Alien Conspiracy theories. We question whether Goliath actually existed during the time of the Bible but search for Bigfoot on a weekend retreat. We don’t have any issue with possession, or haunting, but the Devil is a myth. We rationalize this but we demonize that. We pick and choose based on what we think rather than what we experience. Instead of placing our trust in something Holy, we rub crystals or flash cards to reveal the future. We don’t consider that, perhaps, Jesus could really heal, but we have no problem believing some guru inIt’s true that unless you stand for something, you’ll fall for anything. Instead of angels, we now have aliens. Theresa Caputo is more revered than the Christ. There is a place in
can do just that. Creation Theory has become an archaic lie and the Big Bang
Theory is now our gospel. God having a hand in anything is more foreign to us than
some witch doctor from Thailand
casting a spell. Miracles happen, but Jesus used trickery. We have turned from our
outer knowledge of the Divine in the hope that something else will have the
answers. We are convinced these things hold true when in fact we have simply
abandoned one question for another. Zaire
I don’t buy into most of the supernatural stories from the Bible. They seem improbable considering all we have come to know about how the world really works. They stand for me as that which they were created to be: metaphor. This is exactly what they were supposed to function as in the first place. I don’t believe that grey monsters from a distant planet travelled millions of light years to harvest the organs of your pet cow Herman any more than I believe in the virgin birth. I cannot conceive that your dear departed aunt visited you with some message from the other side regarding what colour shoes you should be wearing to her granddaughter’s wedding. The Loch Ness monster is as much of a fabrication as the Leviathan from the Book of Psalms. If something seems impossible, then it probably is.
I don’t look for God in explanations. I find Him in revelation. I don’t need to know everything, I just know what I need. Century after century, mankind has sought out proof of the supernatural, a metaphysical confirmation of something beyond our human experience. The last time I checked, we have never gained even one iota of proof. All that time, with all those people searching, and observing, and all we have learned is that life is full of mystery. Just because the Egyptians thought cats were divine doesn’t make it so. There is just as much speculation involving the abominable snowman as there is with fallen angels who rape our women. If there are demons from other dimensions, it is obvious that they must be invisible, so how could we possibly know? I would argue we are not supposed to know. We aren’t supposed to look outside the obvious because the answer lies within the obvious. No matter how we seek, we will never find it any place but there. You can go on the hunt for some esoteric justification all you want, but you already have everything you will ever need to find your answers. I may not be able to hand you Darth Vader, but I can reveal just how to find the Force.
One day, I just stopped looking for God in the unexplained and started finding Him in the world around me. If you want proof that spacemen make circles in the middle of fields, I can take you to see. If you want to find God, start looking for yourself. There is no question. You have to be blind to miss it. It is all around us. So why then can no one see? The rocks, the trees, the stream through a meadow, these are the miracles that we can touch and see and understand. There is something supernatural in a spider’s web, in the cosmos and in loving someone so much that it hurts. I myself have spent a great deal of time trying to discover any evidence that there was something more to this life than mere existence. I just had to know for sure. I wanted to validate my faith, substantiate my upbringing and confirm my expectations. All the trying in the world won’t make something appear if there is nothing there.
“There is so much here, O Eternal One, so much You have made.By the wise way in which You create, riches and creatures fill the earth.
Of course, the sea is vast and stretches like the heavens beyond view,
and numberless creatures inhabit her.
From the tiny to the great, they swarm beneath her waves.
Our ships skim her surface while the monsters of the sea play beneath.”
(Psalm 104:24-26, The Voice Bible)
If you have never gone scuba diving, the adventure may turn out to be quite an awakening if you take it. Submerging beneath the waves may reveal to you another world, but it can also unlock the incredible reality of God’s creation. There is beauty beyond beauty as you dive into the sea. Away from the surface you float on ripples, silently stroked by an ever moving ridge of water. The deeper you go, the further out you go, the more the vastness of the planet becomes your experience. You can feel lost in the size of it. On a clear day you can savour forever. Schools of fish dart and dance about without a care in the world. Jellyfish, without number, wait patiently off in the distance, dreaming of recess. It can be surreal when you realize you are alive in something so alive. A dense cloud, yet nothing at all, swallows you.I grew up in the water. Early on I had a propensity for swimming. Into my late teens, I spent my summers taking lessons, learning to master the art. I constantly felt chalky from all of the chlorine my skin was exposed to. I climbed the ladder to Life Guard but never really fit into that scene. It didn’t matter anyway. I already knew how to save a life. I wanted to learn how to scuba dive. With my Instructor’s Certificate, I finally got my chance. While exploring the Great Lakes was an immediate gratification, I pined for blue waters, not the cloudy brown of
Almost immediately, I felt like an astronaut spying from the Moon. There were fish everywhere and juts of coral trying hard to form a reef. Flounder, mackerel and jackfish flickered in and out of rhythm, feeding and speeding and breathing liquid air. Thirty feet down and anemones and urchins blended with rock and seaweeds. Small schools of colourful fish exercised out in a constant rain of shrimp and plant life. Although I did not get to see a shark, a large sea turtle swam off in the distance. There was great bounty all around me. I felt rather benign amidst the meaning of it all. From up above, occasionally a pelican or heron would dive into my new sky, stealing away with an afternoon snack. I could sense all of the life that surrounded me. I stopped and floated. I tried to take it all in. For the first time in my life, I realized how incredible nature really is. There was beauty to be found in all of the beauty. I know it sounds silly, but I actually thought, just for a second, that I had experienced God.
“From the beginning, creation in its magnificence enlightens us to His nature. Creation itself makes His undying power and divine identity clear, even though they are invisible; and it voids the excuses and ignorant claims of these people.” (Romans 1:20, The Voice Bible)
Off the coast ofIt matters little to me if I see the stars at night shine big and bright deep in the heart of
Vancouver Island, I witnessed a
sunset so beautiful that it made me cry. In ,
I explored forest so dense that I found myself lost in the grandeur of it all.
Watching a Minke whale breach the waves along the Algonquin Park, Ontario St. Lawrence
Seaway left me dumfounded. The dunes of Cape Cod and the rocky
cliffs around Big Sur allowed me to flirt with
Mother Nature. From the mountains in Colorado
to the Badlands of North and ,
I have found peace in the majesty of glacial retreats and tectonic plates. South Dakota always
reminds me just how insignificant I am in the greater scheme of things. Whether
attending the cherry blossom festival in Niagara Falls or picking elderberries along
a dirt road near the town where I grew up, the simple pleasures of the natural
world bring me comfort in moments of need. Everywhere I go, all the places I
have been, only act to cement my faith that there is so much more to this world
than mere coincidence. I see great design in the wonders of nature. I recognize
there is far more to this reality than we know. Washington
“Think about those beautiful wild lilies growing over there. They don’t work up a sweat toiling for needs or wants—they don’t worry about clothing. Yet the great King Solomon never had an outfit that was half as glorious as theirs.”
(Luke 12:27, The Voice Bible)
So few of us ever stop to really hear the birds or take pause during a busy day to recognize a fragrance in the air. We thrive to work and we work to thrive. You may have seen the Seven (natural) Wonders of the World, then climbed Mount Everest, but were you amazed or did you have a revelation? Does the thorn of the rose just draw blood from you or does it draw life into you? We can touch, we can feel, we can understand all this nature, but we do not take the time to think about what it really is. If you can believe that vampires exist, then is it so hard to imagine that there is a God and that He hides in His creation? If you can read the stars and the signs; if you believe that a deck of cards or a wooden board can actually talk to you; if you can find meaning in things so obscure, then why can’t you see the obvious? We are, after all, part of nature too.I am a rational person. I believe in the Big Bang and in
When we become familiar with something, it loses its uniqueness. We no longer view it as special because it has become the everyday. We don't take the time to see things that are in front of our faces so we don’t even bother to look. We cling to almost anything we think will help us get through, anything but the obvious. Whether scientific or supernatural, we convince ourselves that our theories are true, well knowing that if you give a man enough opportunity, he will believe anything. In an attempt to create our own answers, we have asked the same questions. The symphony of every living thing testifies of a higher power, but we do not listen.
As my day in the