(Inspired during a Sunday school class on the evils of a non-literal interpretation of Genesis. Original date of writing: Sunday, February 11, 2007.)
The God I worship, the God who created the universe, the God who sustains the universe--that God, my God, is powerful enough to speak the Grand Canyon into existence, to create that wonder of the natural world by simply whispering Be; and that same God, my God, is powerful enough to lovingly, meticulously sculpt the Grand Canyon out of the desert rock over billions of hours in the workshop.
For my God, the Omnipotent God who stands outside of time and space, who sees all of time and space in a pin-prick in His palm, who made time and space by the creative work of His word and His hand--for that God, my God, the instant of His thought and those millennia of craft and art are the same.
Why then do we still attempt to contain that timeless God in a 6,000-year-square box?