Here at the marine station I have had to find other ways to structure my life. I don’t have a calling, or classes. My job is highly irregular. FHE doesn’t exist. There’s no institute, or Friday night campfires. There is far more unstructured time then I am use to. However there are a few things that are regular.

We eat every morning at 7 am. That means I get up a bit before that every day. No sleeping in on Sundays or Saturdays for to do so would cost you breakfast. Lunch is also fixed at 12 pm sharp. So even if you are out and about you will find your way back in time for lunch. Dinner comes at 5:30. The next most important factor in planning the day is the tides. If you need to collect clams, or intertidal critters, or go out on a boat, you need to wait for the tides to be just right. They change every day in magnitude and in time. If the tides are particularly low then class gets canceled. You put on your rubbers and head for the sea.

Since we are only here for 31 days (today is day 15) we have a lot of class work to do. But since we basically have no other fixed obligations classes filled the holes in the schedule rather than creating holes around them. So with breakfast and lunch fixed class becomes the time between breakfast and lunch. There is no bell to ring so you can keep going until you get tired. Having taught for 3 1/2 hours I have reached that point  before. Then you dismiss and everyone goes about their way.

Saturdays are only mildly different. We usually do a field trip instead of class and the shift of lunch ladies changes. Other than that though there is very little that changes.

Each day is blending into the next. It is so tempting to step outside of time. To spend a morning wandering the woods, or walking by the sea or reading books that you haven’t touched in ages. Then you check your email and are reminded that the world outside is not turning based on the phases of the moon. Adventures continue, mountains are climbed, rivers crossed, babies born, degrees earned, friends married, funerals held. You too have deadlines dependent on more than the moon. Your membership in that other world still exists. You cannot fall completely into the cycle of the waves crashing upon the shore.

Long ago I read this short story as part of a larger story. I never forgot it and as I currently study marine invertebrates it returned with a force. Ironically I am rereading the book currently though I have not yet reached this chapter. The book is the Once and Future King, by T. H. White. This is a short excerpt related to the diversity of life which I am encountering daily right now.

In particular I present it as a nod to the dozens of starfish, urchins, sunflower stars, and other echinoderms residing in our tanks. For Chordates (the vertebrate phylum of which we are a member) finds its closet relative in the echinoderms. For the first couple dozen cell divisions we develop the same way that starfish do.  We share a deuterstome ancestor with them. This adds an interesting perspective on the development of embryos.

———-The Badger’s Discourse—-

People often ask, as an idle question, whether the process of evolution began with the chicken or the egg. Was there an egg out of which the first chicken came, or did a chicken lay the first egg? I am in a position to say that the first thing created was the egg.

When God had manufactured all the eggs out of which the fishes and the serpents and the birds and the mammals and even the duck-billed platypus would eventually emerge, He called the embryos before him, and saw that they were good.

Perhaps I ought to explain,’ added the badger, lowering his papers nervously and looking at Wart over the top of them, ‘that all embryos look very much the same. They are what you are before you are born – and, whether you are going to be a tadpole or a peacock or a cameleopard or a man, when you are an embryo you just look like a peculiarly repulsive and helpless human being. I continue as follows:

The embryos stood in front of God, with their feeble hands clasped politely over their stomachs and their heavy heads hanging down respectfully, and God addressed them.

He said: “Now, you embryos, here you are, all looking exactly the same, and We are going to give you the choice of what you want to be. When you grow up you will get bigger anyway, but We are pleased to grant you another gift as well. You may alter any parts of yourselves into anything which you think will be useful to you in later life. For instance, at the moment you cannot dig. Anybody who would like to turn his hands into a pair of spades or garden forks is allowed to do so. Or, to put it another way, at present you can only use your mouths for eating. Anybody who would like to use his mouth as an offensive weapon, can change it by asking and be a corkindrill or sabre-toothed tiger. Now then, step up and choose your tools, but remember that what you choose you will grow into, and will have to stick to.”

“All the embryos thought the matter over politely, and then, one by one, they stepped up before the eternal throne. They were allowed two or three specializations, so that some chose to use their arms as flying machines and their mouths as weapons, or crackers, or drillers, or spoons, while others selected to use their bodies as boats and their hands as oars. We badgers thought very hard and decided to ask for three boons. We wanted to change our skins for shields, our mouths for weapons and our arms for garden forks. These boons were granted. Everybody specialized in one way or another, and some of us in very queer ones. For instance, one of the desert lizards decided to swap his whole body for blotting-paper, and one of the toads who lived in the drouthy antipodes decided simply to be a water-bottle.

“The asking and granting took up two long days–they were the fifth and sixth, so far as I remember–and at the very end of the sixth day, just before it was time to knock off for Sunday, they had got through all the little embryos except one. This embryo was Man.

” ‘Well, Our little man,’ said God. ‘You have waited till the last, and slept on your decision, and We are sure you have been thinking hard all the time. What can We do for you?’

” ‘Please God,’ said the embryo, ‘I think that You made me in the shape which I now have for reasons best known to Yourselves, and that it would be rude to change. If I am to have my choice I will stay as I am. I will not alter any of the parts which You gave me, for other and doubtless inferior tools, and I will stay a defenceless embryo all my life, doing my best to make myself a few feeble implements out of the wood, iron and the other materials which You have seen fit to put before me. If I want a boat I will try to construct it out of trees, and if I want to fly, I will put together a chariot to do it for me. Probably I have been very silly in refusing to take advantage of Your kind offer, but I have done my very best to think it over carefully, and now hope that the feeble decision of this small innocent will find favor with Yourselves.’

” ‘Well done,’ exclaimed the Creator in delighted tones. ‘Here, all you embryos, come here with your beaks and whatnots to look upon Our first Man. He is the only one who has guessed Our riddle, out of all of you , and We have great pleasure in conferring upon him the Order of Dominion over the Fowls of the Air, and the Beasts of the Earth, and the Fishes of the Sea. Now let the rest of you get along, and love and multiply, for it is time to knock off for the week-end. As for you, Man, you will be a naked tool all your life, though a user of tools. You will look like an embryo till they bury you, but all the others will be embryos before your might. Eternally undeveloped, you will always remain potential in Our image, able to see some of Our sorrows and to feel some of Our joys. We are partly sorry for you, Man, but partly hopeful. Run along then, and do your best. And listen, Man, before you go . . .’

” ‘Well?’ asked Adam, turning back from his dismissal.

” ‘We were only going to say,’ said God shyly, twisting Their hands together. ‘Well, We were just going to say, God bless you.’ “

The Marine Station

I am now living in Oregon for a brief 31 days. I am the TA for a BYU professor who is guiding a small study abroad (that isn’t abroad) here. The subject matter is Marine Biology of which I know nothing. However, I have worked with Dr Rader for a full year now and will soon be his grad student, so who else would he bring? I am working with Ecology in particular which I TAed last semester, so I can do something. We are staying in the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology which is a campus owned and run by the University of Oregon (I think that is the duck one).

Our group consists of 10 BYU students, myself, another TA (who I have known for two years now), and Dr Rader for a total of 13. We made a bit of a splash at church on Sunday. We get to be here for one fast month. We have two classes, Marine Ecology and General Ecology. I don’t actually have to go to class although I will (have) teach a few sessions. We are also conducting a research project on decomposing leaves in the intertidal zone.

I have a few personal goals for the trip. I wanted to watch the sunset every day. The first three days it rained. I took pictures anyway. Today I missed it being thoroughly engaged in research. But that’s only 1 day out of seven. Pretty good. My other goal is to finish up my honors thesis. It will be much harder. I have been very very busy. Even on Saturday I had to drive a visiting scientist to Eugene for a flight. 6 hour trip. Still, it is wonderful to see Oregon. My final goal is to fall in love with the sea. I hope to do this by personal knowledge of life forms, significant experiences with it, and appropriate reading material.

It’s nice to eat in a cafeteria again. This is a lot like Jerusalem, except much harder for outsiders to appreciate and much more casual. Well, Breakfast is at 7.

Tonight I spent a few moments walking the cold windy beaches of Utah Lake in between roasting hotdogs and playing with the Dutch oven. The strong wind created significant waves which flowed in all directions. I had pulled together 15 friends for a little party which was fun and light and quick due to the fierceness of the wind.

Wind creates waves. We felt the wind tonight and saw the waves in their perpetual chaotic beating and yet with a pattern against the rocky shoreline. Waves are what we call deterministic. Although the chaos seems complete to our eyes each wave is created by the energy of the wind and is moving purposefully to a specific spot. If we could measure the energy in the waves we could predict with precision exactly where the waves were heading. Their end is determined by their beginning.

When we stand on a rocky shoreline and stare into the chaos of waves we might feel like all is random. Water moves this way and that, splashing this rock and missing that one. We can stretch our hands into the firm push of the wind and wonder that there is any rhyme or reason to it.

As we watch and listen and feel we begin to see patterns in the waves and the winds.  The waves move with the wind, they follow each other and crash upon the shore in a similar fashion. Each one unique, yet all are the same.

We are all travelers in seas (or very large lakes) of wonder and trial. We are buffeted on every side. The wind blows and the sun sinks behind a cloud low on the horizon. Each of us experiences a unique version of the same earthly sojourn with a relentless wind pushing us towards an unseen shore.  It seems to us that the forces around us constantly drive us to some determined end.

And so would our fate be if not for one thing. We have been given a gift that the waves of the sea don’t have. We have the gift of choice. We choose which wind we follow. Through the power of he who would redeem us we can choose how we respond to the wind and the waves and the smoke and so determine for ourselves where we end up.  We cannot choose the winds or the waves that assail us, only how we react to them when they come.

I am straining my eyes in the smoke and wind and waves to see the distant shore. I can see wisps of green and warmth and peace divided from the shores of smoke and black and cold. My constant effort is to respond only to the wind that will bring me to the right shore. I rely on you to keep me in the right current and listening to the right wind for then I know I’ll meet you someday on God’s golden shore.

I spent the last year as the activities chair in my ward. Yes, I know that calling was discontinued over a year ago. That means I’m not on the ward council, but being in a singles ward I guess they decided it was a good idea to have someone to plan stuff fulltime.

I’m not really a party person. When I plan things I aim for safety and efficiency, not fun. Its bee a long year but I’ve learned a great deal from it and developed a few talents along the way. I’m still not fun necessarily but at least I can set the stage for other people to have fun while I stress about finding a table to put 80 donuts on.

I’m moving out of my ward this week, that’s the only way you can be assured of getting released. (I’m not moving out just to get released). So as I approached the final ward activity of the semester and of my tenure I wanted to make a splash. I am not a party person. It always bothered me that my purpose was to plan parties. So I wanted to make this one different. I decided to turn it into an analogy. I took up the amazing race idea. We would split into 8 teams and fan across campus looking for clues. The clues would lead us to more clues and eventually lead to a final place on campus where we would watch our end of year slideshow and eat donuts.

Then I had an idea, a wonderful awful idea. I would put the clues in a loop, so all eight teams would just be running around in one large circle. I would then give each team one piece of the final puzzle. The only way to find all eight pieces would be to talk to all eight teams. By nature the teams would be competitive but I would leave quotes about cooperation on every hint to try and get them to think about what they were doing. I would forcibly teach my competitive ward that winning was less important than getting everyone to the finish line.

It was raining.

I think the plan worked.

Well, I had to soften things a little bit. There were a few people that were late so I told them where to meet us. They told the first people they met where the end location was. So the first couple of teams trickled in because they found people that told them how to get there. Someone started stealing clues so teams started getting lost. One clue was hidden at shoelace level and no one was able to find it without me telling them where to look. After an hour my phone started ringing like crazy as frustrated people begged for better hints. They called each other as well and soon the word of our location leaked out illegally to the entire ward.

As I quieted the room I inquired if anyone had figured out the final clue. All eighty people had found our theater without ever finding all the clues. They had all found it another way. Only two people had figured out, too late, that they were supposed to work together. Very few people read the quotes. I gave them a brief lecture on the importance of cooperation in which they fell completely silent for about 5 seconds. The rest of the time someone was talking.

We then went ahead with donuts and picture slideshows.

I received the usual comments of gratitude which come after every activity regardless of how well it goes. I think the analogy was sound.  As I have pondered it over these few days I have found a great deal of truth hidden in it but I have also seen my own weakness in communicating that point to my wardlings. I do not think they understood. I fear the point was lost.

Competition terrifies me because of what it does to us. We use it so heavily to drive us to become better, stronger, faster than our brothers and sisters. But that isn’t the point of life. We are supposed to become better, stronger, faster than our lesser selves. “The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.” Eccl 9:11

Well my dear ward, I want us to all make it. I have given you what strength I had and tried to teach you something of value about this mortal experience. I hope that in spite of my weakness and arrogance you are able to find something of celestial significance in what I have done. I hope I didn’t make you run around in circles on a rainy Wednesday night for nothing, although I hear the donuts were worth it.

Deep inside of Riley is the knight he sometimes reflects. All the charm and wit from a lifetime (albeit incomplete) of observation is hidden in those depths. But to, butcher the bard; he is not chivalrous who does not show his chivalry. I cannot seem to release it.

Let me diagram for you my brain. I am focused constantly on the next few moments and hours. I’ll walk in the lab and my brain will map out a number of possible time paths. If I sit at the computer I know I will check my email and deal with the next set of crises it reveals. If I eat lunch I know I will read the newspaper. If I pull out insects I know I will be committed for the next two hours.

Okay, so I’m predicting the probable future based on past experience. A leads to B leads to C. Pretty simple. But sometimes I run into new situations where I have no past data from which to extrapolate.

Today I was on campus for several hours (okay, around 10). As I was wrapping up I stopped by the office to pick up some papers. I found there my attractive female coworker. Sorting through the piles of paperwork and organizing them into stacks. I willingly helped out as it was a pleasant reprieve from hours of study. I had no plans for the evening, only to head home and take a break before jumping back into studying for a test for which I am woefully unprepared. Her plans consisted of going to the library for the remainder of the evening to do homework. We were both hungry. I mentioned a desire to go and eat and as I did so a number of pathways opened up. I realized that I could end up down any of them based on my current position and all it would take to launch a path was a few utterances of mine. I could wrap up the business and make some excuse about going home to study and leave her to her plan. I could walk with her to the library and engage in the homework for a while to show interest, leaving before my presence became detrimental to her work. Or I could encourage her to live life a bit on a Saturday night and we could spontaneously visit a taco stand. Simple, casual, interesting: A door to wondrous potential paths. Where to go? I could see myself saying the words and using the gestures and expressions required to produce each result.

But, as I always do when such opportunities present themselves (as they do more often than I deserve) I froze. Instead of grasping the situation I left it open. I didn’t choose any path hoping that one would be chosen for me.  One was. Since I was not giving any hints of desiring to do the chivalrous charming thing, the path closed.  We lingered and lingered a bit more waiting for someone to take the step into the unknown. Neither of us did. So we did the default. She went to the library and I went home although neither wanted to. (I am of course assuming to know what she was thinking).  The alternate paths flickered out.

I walked home and processed the info and decided I would have been much happier had I done the chivalrous thing that my mind had offered. But instead I went home and failed miserably at studying while eating cheap, boring food and had more insignificant exchanges with the people around me. I watched other boys succeed at letting their charming spontaneity endear them to the hearts of those who I might have won over. Instead I let more doors close as last week’s crush was swept up with fulano and this week’s crush made headway with mengano.

How many times have I stood at the ridge of romantic victory, all the pieces set, the girl willing and wanting, where all that was required was a few words of permission or encouragement showing my mutual interest? The few times I’ve taken the leap have been wonderful and intriguing. Yet far more commonly I make it to that moment where we stand on the sidewalk about to part in the cloudy Saturday dusk and I can say no more than a universally disappointing pre-programmed farewell as I return to the solitude that welcomes me home.

Rise up oh man of God, have done with lesser things. You are more than you allow yourself to be. The people sense it, why don’t you show it?

In a book I recently pretended to read the author told of the feared cocktail question,” What do you do?” As we rove about in our social circles and daily activities it’s inevitable that someone will ask you that question, frequently. In college we are desperately trying to get to know people so that question comes up all the time. It takes a number of different forms. “What are you majoring in?”
“What do you want to do with that?” And as you get older “what are your plans after graduation?”  Hearing the question almost daily for the last several years has given me cause to think about it a great deal. What am I becoming? Where am I going?

At the beginning of the school year I had a pretty solid plan. I was anxiously engaged in biological research and having a blast with weekend adventures across my mountain west home. I was registered to take the LSAT in preparation to apply to Law Schools. I was even dating a wonderful girl. It was a comfortable time, with only a mild degree of uneasiness. I dove into the LSAT with almost zero preparation and came out feeling wonderful. I was used to doing quite well on tests and this one had not seemed too bad.

Then things started to unravel. I developed knee problems which added an element of pain to my wilderness adventures. School work piled up and I was kept busy planning social events for three different organizations. I stopped dating the girl and crippled my ability to interact within our mutual group of friends (who were also neighbors). Then the LSAT score came in and delivered a stunning blow being far lower than I was used to getting. Low enough that my assumptions of law school were derailed. In my arrogant state I saw I could not get into the schools I that thought to attend and utterly ignored the schools I could get into.

I scrambled for a new plan. My honors thesis proposal was rejected and suddenly I was about to become a college graduate with zero plan. For the first time in my life my future plan was only 6 months. I tried to motivate myself to retake the LSAT but realized that I needed more time to avoid my previous mistakes.

I withdrew. Maybe not socially or academically, I continued to be involved in the things I was duty bound to accomplish but my heart was not in it. I was scared and running from my failures. I sent to friends for advice and counsel and they responded giving me plenty to consider.  More than anything though I pleaded for guidance from a source that I trusted would never lead me wrong.  And the weeks passed.

Finally in December as I went home for Christmas break I decided it was time to act. I needed a plan. My boss had been trying to get me to apply for graduate school for some time and though I did not know for certain I decided to give it a try.

With two weeks to prepare I took the GRE. My Honors Thesis was approved through a very messy process over Christmas break. Suddenly I was tremendously overbooked for the semester. I did much better on the GRE and was easily accepted into the Biology Graduate program at BYU.

This is an aside. Last night I ran into a friend who I had not seen in some months and we chatted for a while about all that has happened. She told me not to forget how little I am or how big I am. I instantly thought of Moses realizing how small and insignificant he was in comparison to the innumerable creations of God.  And then realizing how important he was when the devil came and called him son of man. We are not so important that we can derail the plan of God but we are important enough that God died for us.

So how do I answer that question today? I’m going to spend the next 2 years in Provo getting a Master’s degree with Dr. Russell Rader focusing on Ecology, my favorite perspective in natural science.  I’m going to be a Scientist. After that, I don’t know. I might get a PhD. I may go to law school. Maybe I’ll get a job somewhere. But hopefully I can get a little better at putting myself in proper perspective.

Long ago, well, 6 years ago, I was a 18 year old freshman in Stover Hall in the Helaman Halls dorms at BYU. The experience changed my life forever and created friendships that remain a daily influence in my life. All of my current roommate lived in Stover the same time. As things wrapped up and I prepared to leave I wrote a letter to those that would come after. I then taped the letter to the bottom side of my desk, a place I rarely looked at. In that letter I wrote in part:

I loved living in the dorms. It so nice to have such close friends live so close around. We are friends here on 1100. We have banded together in a manner very unusual in most places I think. You can do the same thing. Remember that the people around you are not just neighbors, they are brothers (or I suppose sisters if they switch the dorms again.) You can rely on them, they can be a great help to you.

I attached my name and email, packed up my bags, and headed off. Three years later they switched the dorms from male to female and the manly men of Stover Stadium became freshman girls. I received a facebook note from a freshmen girl who was then living in Stover 1107 about how she had received my note. She agreed with my sentiments.

Two years later (a few months ago) I received another note

Hi, my name is——– and I”m am the current resident of 1107 Stover Hall. Today my friend M— was plugging in her computer under the desk and she discovered the note you left behind. She and my other friend Sarah and I read it together and we really loved your words of advice and your testimony. The girls in our hall are exceptionally close, just like you said the boys who used to live here with you were all very close. Thank you for taking the time to write that, we have all been inspired and are each going to leave notes of our own at the end of our 8 months
Sincerely,
—–

Standing at the foot of graduation considering those times back in Stover seems like staring into the depths of the murky ocean. How far I have come and how much I have seen. I am so grateful for my time at BYU, it has been full of treasured experiences that I dearly hope these freshman can continue to have years into the future.

16 credits worth of classes. I taking my last couple of credits to graduate. That comes out to 17 hours in class a week. They come with reading assignments, homework, quizzes, and dreadful tests.

Mentored Research on Penstemon. Good for one credit, I spend 3 hours a week growing plants, running genetic experiments, mutating plants, watering plants, and listening to the other lab workers gossip.

Work at a TA. 6 hours of office time where students come and get help with homework and test and so forth. Also I go to that class two hours a week. Sometimes I put in some extra time if there are a lot of students needing help like this week with a test coming up.

Work as a research assistant. Any extra time I can spend in the lab not helping students I work on analyzing samples from hobble creek for a restoration study. I organize the other 3 students working in the lab to keep us coordinated. I also do odd jobs for the professor.

Preparing for a field study  in the spring. As the TA there are lots of little tasks like mapping travel routes, applying for permits and making advertisements. Just a couple hours a week

Work as a Writing Fellow. I am tutoring 9 students in Bio 347 on their writing assignment. I receive papers from them which I read and correct and then return to them. I then meet one on one with each student. I happen to be the senior fellow in the class so I also supervise the other two tutors.

Work as a Writing Fellow staff member. I attend weekly staff meetings and send out the weekly announcements. I’m over a few committees like the archive committee and the mid-semester social committee.

Presenting a workshop for other Writing Fellows. Just an hour lesson on some skill to help Writing Fellows be better tutors. Just takes a little bit of prep time.

Between all those work assignments I have to clock around 20 hours a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

Supporting roommates as they have birthdays and fulfill their callings. Mostly small things like going to FHE each week instead of skipping it or showing up when they throw parties.

Running the Ward Activities committee. Everyone wants to help but no one wants to think of things to do. Someone has to do the delegating. This week was the ward talent show. I put someone else in charge but still had to schedule rooms, handle communication and publicity, arrange equipment, run the sound booth and get programs printed and make sure the things I did delegate happened. At least this time I didn’t get on a microphone so I was a little less public in my doings.

Webmaster for the Environmental Science Club. Mostly just updating activity info on the webpage but I do other odd jobs too. We are going camping next week so there are a lot of details to handle there. I also have to announce activities in classes

Home Teacher. Don’t forget you have to have your first visit done by the 15^th!

Cleaning checks. Once a month you got to clean that bathroom.

Dating. Remember how you aren’t married yet? You have to fix that.

Honors Thesis. I have 30 pages to research and write in the next 6 weeks. I also have to write 7 more great works responses. I delayed graduation for this and now I must do it. You still have two books to read too.

Scripture reading. Ward goal to finish the Book of Mormon by Easter. Don’t let yourself fall too far behind. The bishop also wants us to memorize The Living Christ. The Stake President wants us to bring one name to the temple this semester.

Housing. You have to find a new place to live in April and again for August.

Scholarships. Don’t forget that applications are due in two weeks.

Laundry. Sometimes it becomes the most important thing on the list

Dinner group. You promised to feed 8 people once every 2 weeks.

Grad School. You have an application submitted and you are awaiting a reply. While you have a good application nothing is certain.

Friends. I still have a duty to my friends. I must be there when they need me. To support them in times of trial and success. It may be a late night or a mission call but I can sacrifice a bike ride now and then.

Family. Not people I see on a weekly basis but they are an influence in everything I do.

These are a few of the things that make up my life right now. This week I had to do all of them and it nearly destroyed me. Long ago I developed the standard that if my life ever became too busy for me to eat lunch then I was doing something wrong. I’ve skipped lunch too many times this week.

It was a Saturday. I found myself unusually busy after an unusually busy week with a morning Writing Fellow’s conference which I had a major part in running. As the conference wrapped up and I realized it was finally over everyone dispersed their separate ways. I found myself alone and exhausted. I slowly walked home and pondered the loneliness I was feeling. There is great camaraderie in the Writing Fellows. I love being a part of the organization yet I still find myself as the odd fellow in the room. I am ultimately not an English major. Grammar is not my strong suite or even a pressing issue in my life. I tend to be very aloof during events like this as I run around making sure everything works that I forget to talk to anyone. So I rarely build significant friendships.

Because I was at the conference I missed a Wallyball tournament that the whole ward participated in. So arriving home everyone was chatting about the adventure and I had nothing to contribute. The sun was shining and I was very tired so I decided to spend a few moments, before I had to return to campus for more tasks, sitting in my folding chair outside my apartment. I grabbed a book I’ve recently been reading which has been calling to me ever since I saw some videos based on it some months ago.  The book is the Pale Blue Dot, by Carl Sagan. The first couple pages brought me instantly to the same sense of wonder I felt when I saw the video. The sense that there is much of wonder and perspective left in the universe.

As I sat in my own sunbeam I read deeper into the book where Carl Sagan broached the topic of geocentric theory. He pointed out how ridiculous it was for human to assume our planet was the center point of everything.  Piece by piece he expanded on his mockery of humanity as he debunked theories of the sun being special, of the social system being special, of anything astronomically unique about us. After showing how insignificant we were in the universe he proceeded to zoom in on us as life forms. He explained how similar we were to every other creature on our planet.  Even our status as intelligent life form was challenged. All of this was very fair. Humans like to think we are the center of everything even we are not.

Then he crossed the line. He attacked the notion that there was a supreme being that held particular interest in us; A being similar to us in form and appearance; One that cared for us and gave us any privilege.  Carl Sagan is an atheist. He allows that there may be other intelligent beings in the universe, and even that there are more advanced ones. But there is no God in the universe he created on those pages.

I closed the book and went on my way more depressed and lonely than before. I spent some time on campus caring for my penstemon plants and pondering my loneliness, the hole I could feel in my heart.  I don’t know what I’m missing or how to fill that gap in my soul.

Then I received a phone call.

It was my hometeachee. She had just moved in this semester so we weren’t close yet.  I can’t even say her name right yet. But she was feeling sick and being an RM called me up as her hometeacher to give her a blessing. I wrapped up my campus tasks and returned home to take my companion with me. We visited not more than a minute or two as she expressed feeling not only sick but a little overwhelmed by her life at the time. She asked me to give her a blessing with complete trust in a person she had only met briefly once or twice.

I had the distinct impression when I first met her that she was a good person. She had the glow in her that I admire so much in honest followers of Christ. As I placed my hands upon her head a blessing flowed from my tongue that I had not pondered nor premeditated. I gave her highly personal individualized promises in a brief powerful blessing. She started crying. I knew that I could claim no responsibility for the moment. The words from my tongue were not my cognitive creation. They were my interpretation of a message that some being with power beyond my own wanted to share with a specific member of a species of monkey that lived on one tiny planet utterly isolated in the vast volume of space.

When God wants me to find a better way or attitude he sends me to bless someone else.  I don’t know what all that blessing meant to that young lady but to me it was a direct reminder that God is not dead nor doth he sleep. There is a power in this universe that is generally invisible to us mere mortals. Not only is it a power that permeates everywhere and knows everything but it understands us as individuals not just a particularly warmongering species. And not only does that being understand us individually but it cares enough for us that its willing to communicate with us.

I’m sorry Carl Sagan. You were a wonderful writer with a true gift for assembling words to invoke grandeur and significance. However, you are wrong. I have no science that can prove that God exists. In spite of those who claim to have found scientific evidence for God I can make no such claim. He isn’t proven with material signs. I know there is a God because it is his power that flowed through me when I put my hands on that woman’s head. I have felt his power and his influence again and again in my life. For me to deny that those feelings existed would be like me ignoring the reality of hunger simply because I am full right now.

Humanity is significant. Maybe we aren’t genetically all that unique and perhaps there are monkeys that use tools and develop altruism. Regardless of what other life may be or do it doesn’t matter. We are the most important species on this planet and perhaps in the universe because God loves us as his children: A love that places us squarely in the center of his plan for everything; a love that makes us, homo sapiens, the most important organism in all known space.  Believe in God dear humanity, for surely he believes in you.