Scrutiny

NGC_4414_(NASA-med)In a very far-away corner of the Universe, billions of light-year away. There is a galaxy. Light from this galaxy has never reached Earth, so there is no human name for it. As galaxies go, this one if quite unimpressive. A frumpy galaxy that probably was not popular in high school.

Circling this galaxy, on the end of one of its most unfashionable arms, is a lone, small star. Circling this star at a distance of about 15 light hours is a small clump of ice whose only distinguishing feature is its utter ordinariness. A small spike protrudes from the center and at the very tip, there is a water molecule.

The oxygen in this water molecule is a rather selfish habit of keeping the electrons to itself much of the time. As the electrons attempt to escape the powerful magnetic force the binds them to the nucleus, an even stronger force presses the neutrons and protons together. The glue that hold them together is also the force that created them. The quarks inside the protons attempt to leave, but the force holds them together with unimaginable strength.

Scrutinizing this amazing dance is a Creator who watches and waits. Every circle of the electron is watched and guided. Every rule in the depths of the atom is enforced by the God who make the atom. He watches and delights in the amazing symmetries. The particles try to run and to stay, to disappear and to create more, but he holds them firmly and shepherds them into their destiny.

He watches each atom in the whole ice crystal. He guides the slow 498.76 year orbit of the crystal from its distant star. He watches the star as it slowly marches through the frumpiest of galaxies. In fact, despite it’s frumpiness, He has a special affection for this galaxy that no human being will ever see or know of.

He takes a special delight in knowing things that he alone will ever know. It’s not that he is secretive, but that he does have his secrets. No one will ever know of his favorite boring star in the frumpiest of all galaxies because no one will ever think to ask. He chuckles as he considers this.

His intimate understanding extends through all the nearby galaxies. He knows every secret of every particle and wave in all the depths of all space. Every last one stands at attention to his command and every last one immediately obeys his instruction.

The immensity of his intellect and power make this intimate knowledge effortless. He could create a million such universes and know them just as well. He did not struggle to hold this together, he enjoyed holding it together. He loved knowing what he had made.

As he stares across the cosmos and feels the ebb and flow of hundreds of billions of galaxies, he has a special attention to a little planet and a moderately more fashionable region of the universe. This planet, green with life, is not his favorite, but the people who live on it are quite special to him.

One of his better kept secrets if why, exactly, he cares for these little creatures. He made them in his image and that is a remarkable thing, but many have wondered why he would do this. Even making them in his image, why does he love them so much. There are many more fantastic and remarkable things happening in the Universe at any second, yet he watches with a special attention for these ants on a little iron ball.

His explanations of why he loved them were never satisfactory to the questioner. This was another thing that made him chuckle. He could decide to love them and he had decided to. The questioner always seems to think there needs to be a better reason, but this is reason enough for a finite questioner with a finite questions.

He even finds it remarkable in his own thinking that he loves them. A testament to the type of God he is, one who loved children and not just clocks in a wound up Universe.

So let us, those very children, take a moment and realize that while he scrutinizes that atom in the depths of space, he is watching us: he is watching me. He is taking the time to love me and know me. He is the sort of God who wants to know me and be known by me. What sort of God is this?

Certainly a mysterious one.

-Chip

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People Die Just Like They Lived

dying gaulThere is a belief out in the world that people who are dying are different. They look back and see their lives in the sunset and the perspective offers them fresh insight and changes them somehow. It looks really good in a movie and makes a touching story at a funeral.

The reality is both better and worse than that.

As a hospice nurse, I have seen many people die. I tried to understand what drove them in their last days. Many have died with a grave and firm dignity that I envy. Many have died desperately clawing at their lives. Many have died forgiving and being forgiven. Many have died more bitter than they were in life.

For years it perplexed me what they had in common. What does death do to all of us? What do the bitter man and the kind man have in common as they see their lives ending?

The answer, they became even more themselves.

Death really isn’t that transformational. The anxious woman is even more anxious. The caring lady is even more caring. The┬ábrave man exhibits previously unknown courage. The coward is even more afraid.

This really shouldn’t be surprising. Dying people are regular people under a great deal more stress. With the rust blasted away by the heat of the moment, the metal below is exposed. Death is, after all, the great equalizer. The rich die and the poor die. The happy and the sad die. The wise man and the fool are both going to die.

That is not to say that these people die the same. Far from it. In death, I want to be the couragious, faithful, and caring man. My hope is that I will be at peace with my own death and will be able to serve those who are going to suffer through my death. The moment I die, my suffering is truly over. I will look my God in the eyes and finally, after many years of waiting, go home. The wait will have been long, but worth it.

Why would anyone feel sorry for me? I get to go home.

Those left behind, on the other hand, will have experienced a profound loss. Doesn’t it make sense that I should make doubly sure that all debts are paid, all that needs to be said has been said, and that every support for those I love will have been attended to.

How do I become that person? The man who serves in death. Because in death I will be just that much more of what I already am, the answer is to work on the me of today. Am I a servant today? All the more so when I die. Am I kind and generous today? I will be that much more when I die.

Don’t treat today like it has nothing to do with your death. If you are unprepared for your death, those you love will suffer the most. Have the courage to face your death today so that when it comes tomorrow, you will be prepared.

We are all becoming more of what we are every day. Age accelerates this change and dying perfects it. Be very careful who you are becoming today. One day you will become that person. I hope you can look at that person in the mirror.

Or maybe I should say I hope you can look your God in the eye on that day?

-Chip

The image of the Dying Gaul is courtesy of Anthony Majanlahti and is used with permission