Thoughts

A question came up in my social studies class about prehistory. A student wanted to know how all the different species came into existence. We talked briefly about the Cambrian explosion, which prompted another student to ask about the origin of the universe. This led to a great discussion about cosmology that has since spawned other discussions about God, time, and origins. It just happened that I had been reading The Case for a Creator , by Lee Strobel, so answers to their questions were fresh in my mind. It also brought me back to a civil liberties class I took in college, in which we were required to simulate landmark Supreme Court cases. In one of these, we simulated Edwards v. Aguillard (1987), a case that struck down a Louisiana law—called the “Balanced Treatment for Creation Science and Evolution Science in Public School Instruction Act”—forbidding the teaching of evolution in the public school classroom unless it was accompanied by the teaching of creation. The central que...

A heart that’s filled with bitter things Is pulled and tugged by puppet strings By subtle fingers‘ lift it sways By fancy of another’s ways Its legs dancing all the faster, Governed by some callous master Who slumps its head so eyes drop down Plunged deep into its rage to drown Now missing what its life could be: Forgiveness that could make it free But all at once it lifts its eyes To see outside the crippling lies To see the world in all its length And walk within its feeble strength It lifts its arm and spies the cord Remembering unforgiveness stored Quick down again it looks to find Its legs led by some other’s mind So legs that though before hung slack Now activate to take life back The other arm now moves to shear The strings that kept it in its fear Its bonds in one synchronic drop Unfetter what it once would stop The master, too, dispersed from view, To let it rule itself anew This frame that bore a gaping hole It finds is filled again with soul It ...

What started as a stroll on a balmy afternoon Turned quickly to a jog at dusk Before long, it evolved to a full sprint As night set in And the night kept coming Darker still Voices shined temporary light But once stilled, the dark returned Enveloping, surrounding, pressing down Moist walls on either side give not so much guidance As narrowed license Both the path and the air thins Until the valley in the heart begins to fill Slowly it fills Then horizon gleams in the distance Distant still Until the sun begins to rise Though there are moments when eyes close To keep the dark The sun cannot be moved Dark crumbles Shaken down Laying the foundation of a firmer path Then, when the light pierces through Warmth replaces loneliness Light replaces gloom An ascent from the valley Reveals patches of green On ground parched from thirst Until the green become ubiquity The valley reduced now to a pit A pit from which the traveler can choose to step And when tha...

All its life the light turned ‘round Searching for what may be found From stationary cliff its beam Circumnavigated for its dream The rock from which that lighthouse shined Was made to elevate the mind Shouldering, bearing hope through night For those whose fears have cost their sight And all this time the lighthouse turned That heart-- unceasing light-- that burned For something there beyond the fog Convinced it stood in sodden sog For ne’er before did it look down To see that all beyond could drown This light that truly failed to see To learn what its true purpose be For in its hunt of sheer despair It did not stop or think to care This very light it shined and scanned Helped men through dark to find the land. I find that many times, as Christians, we look for a better life outside of the peaceful life we already possess, all the while failing to see how much others need to know the peace we have because of Jesus. The very talents we use to benefit ourselves...

Loss is a trafficker of hope Hawking the familiar as a cloak that warms It whispers that it’s always warmer here And though it clothed us first, We look down to find our arms wrapped tight Loss dissembles in the night Posing as one’s only friend It trains us to believe that letting go That thrusting down the cloak Would leave us forlorn We believe, then, that all we have Is memory That angelic ghost That serpentine thread of thought That we refuse to exorcise That slithers through our mind and circles back again And we believe, then, That the unwrapping of arms would leave us cold Truth promises that we will stand cold For a time, but not forever For when we cast out the demon When we crush the serpent’s head When we drop that garment of despair We feel the breeze again And we break out of a well-worn pit To walk, then run Leaving behind the pile of pain And embracing true warmth It is then that we stand taller No longer stooped, Looking low, But ahea...

I once pet the tail of Will the whale Whose brush with the boat clear cracked the sail Left lone adrift, I felt fear emerge ‘Til Will came back to escape the surge For old Will had seen all the fish unite To advance upon any sign or sight Any sign or sight of those whales at sea Who decided to eat their kind with me Though that mass of fish had scared Will enough That he lost all sign of him seeming tough Still Will had hoped that his side would win So he brought back to me a large pod of kin Who decided to swim a few feet away When the fish approached to keep them at bay Then Will turned ‘round to see face to face The same swift, fast fish who kept up the pace Then we all could see that his fish-filled jail Would lead to the end of old Will the whale.

I once heard the tale of Quill the quail Whose first found friend was a hole-filled pail Quill thought strange of his friend’s pocked face So he plugged the holes to remove the trace ‘Til Farmer John picked up that rust pot To quench the thirst of plants that felt hot But John learned quick to his own disdain That he poured out air and had worked in vain First once then twice old John had thought That the drink the pail had simply not caught Until at Quill he took a long look Quill’s face betrayed the blame that Quill took His wings Quill flapped, but his flight would fail And that was the end of Quill the quail.