A case for God's existence and why we should revere Him

Today I have been reflecting on Psalm 145:3 "Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom." We discussed it in a Bible study Wednesday morning. It is one of those things that you read and say, yeah, I agree with that," but do we really understand the implications of this? Has it transformed the way we think and the way we live? When I look around at the way our culture conducts itself, the direction modern science moves forward and the way some church denominations conduct themselves and the way many people live I wonder if people ever really think about this. As a child we hear many little random nuggets of truth from Church or religion that we recognize, but as adults we sometimes fail to put them all together and contemplate what they really mean. The meaning of this verse really sunk in for me on three particular occasions during the last several years, not from a great sermon preached from the pulpit, but from the whisper of God heard in His creation through numerous threads subtly woven into the daily events of my life.

The first one was in Africa, several years ago. The yard where we lived in West Africa was graced with numerous enormous pine trees, planted there in the cooler climate of the high altitudes by the French colonialists some 50 years or more earlier, and in these pine trees the weaver birds loved to put their nests. One particular day a ferocious storm came through and blew down about 10 nests, most of which still had live baby weaver birds in them. The next morning we attempted to gather up all the nests with their hungry little orphaned residents, and placed them in a box. They were at various stages of growth, some just newly hatched, still naked and vulnerable to the elements, while others were full of feathers and nearly ready to venture out of the nest. Over the next several days the kids and I laboriously attempted to search for worms and feed them in various portion sizes to the baby birds. We kept wondering: how much do we need to give them? Does it need to be ground up first? Do we need to give them water? Did I give them too much? One by one we watched the baby birds die, all except for one, which was already old enough to leave the nest a few days after we found him. I remember feeling such a great sense of defeat, yet at the same time I came to greatly respect the mother weaver bird who alone had the ability to give these starving babies what they needed to grow and thrive. I came to have an even greater awe at the God who in his infinite wisdom placed in that little mamma bird's brain all that she needed to know in order to build just the right nest, and search for the right food instinctually, and know just how to give it and how often. In all my supposedly evolved human intelligence, I was no match for the tiniest of creatures and could not come close to knowing the greatness and knowledge of the God who created them.

The second event occurred one day when we and another family were on the coast of West Africa waiting for a boat to take us to an island where we were to spend a few days vacationing in a resort hotel. It sounds exotic, but beach hotels in that part of the world are actually a lot less sophisticated and fancy than those that lace the beaches of the Caribbean, Europe or the US. In order to get to this one, we had to stand on the shore of the mainland which consisted of rocks embedded in sludge cluttered with enormous quantities of plastic bags, dirty needles, tin cans and other garbage dumped in excess by the local population into the ocean without any thought to the effect it had on the ecosystem, much less to the way it destroyed the once beautiful view. Our children, along with the children of the other family, in spite of us adults constantly warning them to keep away from the dangers of the polluted coastline, were fascinated with the whole idea of exploring the beach, however nasty it may appear, and despite our best efforts, kept wandering down into it when we were distracted by our own conversations. Not realizing they had ventured back down into the rocks, our chatting with one another was suddenly interrupted by my daughter's exclamation, "It's beautiful!" We all chuckled at that thought that she could have possibly found something beautiful amongst all that refuse. But then we saw as she emerged from the muddy littered bank that she was holding up a seashell. It was not just any seashell. It was the most fascinating and intricate seashell, as perfect as a seashell could be, with delicate complicated patterns and colors, and without chips or defects of any kind. I took it from her and held it in my hand, and for a brief moment all the ugly world around faded away, and I caught a glimpse of the glory of God unveiled in the delicate beauty and perfection of something made not by a Picasso, but by slug-like creature with a brain the size of a pinhead, all orchestrated by a Creator who was far wiser than I, far greater than I could fathom, and I was humbled. I realized at that moment that man in all his wisdom could never duplicate this shell in the same way that it was formed, could never engineer a creature that could create such a thing, and that no scientific theory could explain this away as an accident.

The third incident was also in Africa, this time in my garden that I had worked for 12 years to nurture from what it once was, the ancient-flashlight-battery-burial-ground-weed-infested-trash-heap of a back yard that we had turned into a refreshing tropical paradise. Over the years I battled weeds, insects, torrential rains, drought and plant diseases to keep my garden looking the way I wanted it to so that I could spend a few minutes each day enjoying a peaceful moment there away from the stresses of cross cultural work and life in general. One day, near the end of our time there, when I was feeling particularly worn and defeated, I took a stroll down the path of my garden and noticed a flower had bloomed that I had not seen bloom in years. It was a ground orchid that someone had given me a cutting of years before, and was mostly a battle to keep trimmed back or alive. Yet there it was, in full bloom without flaw or defect. I stood there for a moment in awe of it's rare beauty. The intricate blend of colors, curves and designs of each petal in perfect alignment with one another took my breath away. And at that moment I could not help but sense the voice of God saying, "see, I created this, this is my glory, my voice speaking, stand humbly before me. And I am standing right here beside you through the storm of what you are going through when you least expected it, when you thought I wasn't there at all. How great is my love for you." At that moment I began to weep. How could something made of simple matter have the power to do that? Nothing made by human hands, let alone by accident, could speak to our souls the way that flower could. Nothing man could create could take the basic elements of soil, water, air and sun, organize it by means of a microscopically tiny and genetically unique and perfect blueprint into something so beautiful that reproduces itself again and again under only the perfect conditions across centuries of time.

How foolish man is that he would presume to know how the world came into being using his own limited lines of logic and reasoning. And how foolish man is to go on his merry way on this earth without a thought of where he is going, what he is doing, any more than to merely please himself and make his own pleasure his god.

King David more than 3000 years ago knew more than the smartest scientists of today did, when he said in Psalm 53:1 says, "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God.'"

And the writer of Ecclesiastes says "Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart, to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few." (Ecc 5:2)

Psalm 94:11: "The Lord knows the thoughts of man; He knows that they are futile."

So I return to the Psalm "Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom." I pray that you are touched today by the greatness of God and that it does indeed transform your way of life and thinking. Take time to reflect on His hand in your life, and how He has blessed you even in difficult times, even when you turned your back on Him and rejected Him as a childish myth, or a useless religious relic. I pray you see even more so how He is calling you back into a relationship with Him. Stand up for what is good and right and reject the mainstream mindset of our culture that says we can live without thought of God. Make a choice to not live a Godless life, but to let Him begin to find His way back into your life.