And They Say There Is No God

      I sit in the hospital room. Marita and Trina sleep. The nurses are busy with other patients. The children are still in school. Visitors have not yet begun to arrive. All I can hear is the repetitive hum of the IV drip as it cycles every ten seconds.

      I sit amazed. New life has been gestating in my wife’s womb for about nine months. I think about how this happened. Eggs knew just where to float. The seed knew just where to roam and then how to fertilize the egg. The new life knew exactly where to implant itself in the womb. Then cell division and growth took place. Over nine months a round sack of cells knew just how to become another human.

      No doubt, parts of Trina are still developing. Her eyes don’t work properly yet, but they will. However, she has come out a fully functioning, fully operational human. She has ears that will pick up and transmit sound better than any microphone. She has eyes that will work better than any camera. She has lungs that trap and convert oxygen better than any machine. She has a heart that cycles blood better than any mechanical pump. She has a brain that is able to store more information and do more work than most computers. She has DNA that contains more information than the Library of Congress. She is filled with innumerable cells each working more efficiently than any man made plant. And it all works.

      WOW!

      Then I remember this all just happened as one gigantic cosmic accident. Billions of years ago, by happy coincidence, some huge explosion from practical nothingness flung matter across the ever-expanding universe. Then our little galaxy and solar system formed. Then, by sheer happenstance, our little planet had just the right conditions to do the impossible—produce life from non-life.

      Amazingly enough that one little cell was able to survive and produce more little cells. Then, quite accidentally, one of those little cells figured out how to become a multi-celled organism. Then, as the happy accident continued over the billennia, it figured out how to become an animal. Somewhere in the numerous animals produced by the luck of the draw, it all became a fully functioning human that can reproduce other humans.

      I have no doubt the skeptics scoff at my lack of understanding. However, I look at my perfect little human and I just don’t see the accident in there.

      No, I know who formed her inward parts. I know who knit her in her mother’s womb. Her frame was not hidden from Him when she was being made in secret. Her days have been written in His book. She is fearfully and wonderfully made.

      “Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well” (Psalm 139:14, ESV).

Edwin L. Crozier