Friday Afternoon Thoughts

I was watching a neat documentary called Galapagos yesterday.

This BBC created movie is about the little island by the same name. Prior to viewing this film I thought that the only thing in existence with that moniker "Galapagos" was the Galapagos turtle (I like to call them G-turts). Never did I once consider that there could be an island of the same name (nor, for that matter, a wondrous environment all the same).

I was so wrong.

As I sat down and just absorbed the breathtaking images, I found myself amazed with all the animals I was watching. I'm far from an animal lover, but I found something curiously addicting about the creativity inherently expressed in these animals. I saw fish (even fish of the jelly variety) of LITERALLY every color in the spectrum. I saw seagulls with the wild rings of red around their eyes. I saw dragons literally jumping from cliffs into the ocean. There were even birds wearing the most fashionably blue webbed feet. It was stellar.

This naturally led me to thinking about Who was creating these animals in the first place. As a I pursued that thought, I considered the possibility of someone/something other than God creating all of these animals. If it were possible, I concluded, it is merely the most amazing anomaly in the history of man. I thought about thinking even deeper but didn't want to waste my time.

So I just sat and smiled. I grew so appreciative of how creative God is. When it got to the part where they filmed the eels that hide on the ocean floor, I thought about the other dynamic of these cool animals--their food. I thought that not only would I probably never visit Galapagos, I am not affected by any means by these animals. Yet, God is extremely interested in these animals; even involved in the intricacies of their diet.

Then the verses started flooding my head.

Not a single sparrow falls to the ground apart from the will of God.
We think we're slick with our fishing skills even though we fail to remember that we're nothing compared to the leviathan.
He can number the hairs on our head!
He calls the stars by name.
He can hold the Pleides in His hands and wouldn't break a sweat.

And what more...He's FAR more interested in us than he is any of those things.


At the end of the day, I found myself concluding the very same thing that G.K. Chesterton did so long ago. Nature is not our mother. Nature is our sister. Since we are of the same Father, we can simply sit back and admire.

And admire I happily did.