In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
  
(John 1:1-5 ESV)

 And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, for
  “‘In him we live and move and have our being’;
  as even some of your own poets have said,
  “‘For we are indeed his offspring.’
  Being then God's offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man.

  (Acts 17:26-29 ESV)

Everyday is an apocalypse…

From the cars on the street to the people that we meet

God is revealing…Himself.

 He is constantly letting us know that we are not alone.

Also, that we are not our own.

But still we press on.

We press on as if everything that has ever happened

In the course of our existence was nothing more than a random, happy little accident –

A very precise, everything just right…”accident”.

 

Nothing more than a big “Oops” or “Uh-oh” that brought about change.

From ooze to the zoo to you – we’re all the same

“You might be free, but your relatives swing from trees

And throw feces in cages…isn’t that amazing?!”

No, it’s scathing and seriously inconsiderate.

It’s akin to taking the Artisan’s work and using it in a birdcage to catch pigeon sh**.

 

Art without evidence is a scientifically manufactured illusion

To free us from the notion of Divine inclusion, or better yet intrusion

And yet, we ignore the body of work like a crime scene at the dinner table.

So Cain didn’t kill Abel…it was an “evolutionary process”.

“The survival of the fittest shows us how much we have progressed”.

 

What a mess; but it’s our best guess

That we feed to our sons and daughters

We’re ignoring the fact that chaos can only produce more chaos

And never produce order.

Creation’s primary goal is not to self-create or to replicate;

Creation resonates

It is the thumbprint of a Creator –

So let’s do away with just looking at scientific data

And all the other formulas to make us too scared to admit it

Ignore all you want, but the truth is you still need some dirt to play with…

 

Ex nihlo, nihlo fit –

Out of nothing, nothing comes

Yet still our textbooks read as if two zeros make a sum?!

But the only way that a zero can compute is with…One

The binary code of nature binds us to a Creator

But in a rebellion of thought mankind screams out:

“There is no God…and we hate him.”

Equating the concept of an almighty God to the Wizard of Oz

And yell at me to get off my yellow brick road

While clinging tightly to the curtain of “chance”

Trying not to reveal that it’s just fool’s gold

“Just click your heels three times to wake up from your dream

You’ll have all the answers you need if you simply believe…”

In what?! You know what the scarecrow, tin man and lion have in common?

They all have no chest, so they follow with no conscious

On the whims of a little girl’s dream, they reach the end of the road

Only to end up back in Kansas with nothing to show

 

But we behold Topeka it in its beauty; people of every tribe, tongue and nation

A place where wayward sons can stop along the journey to their final destination

Just one of the many havens that display the vast glory

Of a Maker who is benevolent

Who made Himself a God-send and not one of Maury’s guests

Never worry about second-guessing who our Father is

Because our DNA is the proof we need to show us that we are known to Him

None like Him, so there’s none like us

He is holy, wholly Other; so I’m wholly broken dust

Made whole again by the sacrifice of His offering

Of a Kinsman Redeemer’s love

Lisping to us in the spoken word

Healing us from the greatest lie we’ve ever heard

The hiss from the serpent’s lips

That has thrown the true origin of our species off course

And has left us an inheritance of a violent wind

And blindness as a curse

 

But our Creator heals the calloused eye

And He also masters the storm

So even if all around me were swept away

His eye is on the sparrow –

Amidst the turbulence, this is my calm

 

Remember this:

 

The Devil is only in the details

Because his Maker saw it fitting for him to exist

So, in other words, there are no “maverick molecules”…

 

Everyday is an Apocalypse.

 

 

Soli Deo Gloria,

Shon