In the still hours of the morning after returning from a night of observing at the telescope, I found myself standing over our bed looking at Marcus, curled up next to Erin. As parents often do, I stood there watching him rest, basking in the rare silence. He was doing his erratic breathing thing, every so often pausing just long enough for me to wonder if he'd start again. And then he'd start again.
As I stood there watching him, I was overcome by a feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was a mixture of love and awe and thankfulness. I felt grateful because it was so astoundingly improbable for me to be there right at that moment.
I thought about all the experiments with civilization humans have done over the past 5-10 thousand years that gave rise to the (semi) stable, and mostly safe world we live in. A world where it was okay for me to marry who I did, and where I can provide for my family by doing something so luxurious as using fancy telescopes to study distant planets. I thought about all the experimental gene combinations that didn't work out, and the important few that did that led to my parents, to me, and eventually to Marcus. I envisioned all of the mass extinctions millions of years ago that were big enough to pave the way for the hairy little creatures, but just small enough to not wipe out all life on Earth. I then thought of all of the collisions in the early Solar System that built up the Earth through a snow-ball-like process, with our tiny little planet positioned in the Goldilocks zone of our solar system: not too hot, not too cold, but just right. And all of the stars that had to be born to fuse the heavy elements that make up the Earth, the moon, and us. And then how those stars lived and died and lived and died over billions of years in order to seed our corner of the Galaxy with those vital raw materials.
I just had to shake my head with a genuine sense of wonder that all of those events somehow lead to me standing there looking at my little son, sleeping peacefully next to my wife.
I reached down and picked him up to transfer him to his crib. But before I set him down, I held his sleeping body high above my head and smiled up at him. Marcus, ruler of my corner of the Universe and my hope for the future! Marcus, descended from a long line of winners, a born survivor, destined for great things, my boy! Marcus, my everyth--
--and then he puked on my forehead...
As I stood there watching him, I was overcome by a feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was a mixture of love and awe and thankfulness. I felt grateful because it was so astoundingly improbable for me to be there right at that moment.
I thought about all the experiments with civilization humans have done over the past 5-10 thousand years that gave rise to the (semi) stable, and mostly safe world we live in. A world where it was okay for me to marry who I did, and where I can provide for my family by doing something so luxurious as using fancy telescopes to study distant planets. I thought about all the experimental gene combinations that didn't work out, and the important few that did that led to my parents, to me, and eventually to Marcus. I envisioned all of the mass extinctions millions of years ago that were big enough to pave the way for the hairy little creatures, but just small enough to not wipe out all life on Earth. I then thought of all of the collisions in the early Solar System that built up the Earth through a snow-ball-like process, with our tiny little planet positioned in the Goldilocks zone of our solar system: not too hot, not too cold, but just right. And all of the stars that had to be born to fuse the heavy elements that make up the Earth, the moon, and us. And then how those stars lived and died and lived and died over billions of years in order to seed our corner of the Galaxy with those vital raw materials.
I just had to shake my head with a genuine sense of wonder that all of those events somehow lead to me standing there looking at my little son, sleeping peacefully next to my wife.
I reached down and picked him up to transfer him to his crib. But before I set him down, I held his sleeping body high above my head and smiled up at him. Marcus, ruler of my corner of the Universe and my hope for the future! Marcus, descended from a long line of winners, a born survivor, destined for great things, my boy! Marcus, my everyth--
--and then he puked on my forehead...
Comments
In my opinion it is simpler to believe in a Creator God who knows exactly what's up than to think that the universe and everything in it is an accident.
And get off my lawn!