some days I’m quite certain I have life figured out.
I’m sure that this routine I live in is solid and things will work out at the end of the day. I think that the world I live in is not so big and I have a pretty good understanding of how things work around here. I know my place and I know what to do in it.
Then I remember the Sun.
I remember that this little spec of a place I call home is on a giant rock flying through an infinite amount of space orbiting a constantly exploding ball of hydrogen at approximately 92.9 million miles, which is just enough to heat us from the bitter cold of outer space and yet not so close as to burn us up in the intense fire we’ve come to call the Sun, thus allowing our planet to sustain life so I can enjoy this banana that just happened to exist on some tree.
And lets not forget: ”The distance of the Earth from the Sun, as well as its orbital eccentricity, rate of rotation, axial tilt, geological history, sustaining atmosphere and protective magnetic field all contribute to the current climatic conditions at the surface.”
which is what makes Earth a habitable planet, without such precise conditions, it could not sustain life.
I will always hold that childlike awe of the universe and space that kept me in wonder of whats out there.
all this. all these numbers. the sheer magnitude of life around us. the ever present surrounding of our powerlessness. the incomprehensible sciences that hold our tiny world in balance, and yet we doubt.
there is no God.
say what you will about science being the answer to all things,
sure science is great. it helps us make sense and order to things so we might come to understand them. But the more I learn of the universe, the more I am pointed to a divine creator.
and that’s just the planet we live on.
don’t even get me started on the human body,
or reproduction and the miracle of life.
92.9
and I worry about what shirt I’m going to wear.
