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I’m in my own image

The Image of God?

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When you look in the mirror, can I help you see beyond that familiar face?

Your Value

Everyone walks a unique path of life, and no person equals another, yet we relate as fellow human beings. Amidst diversity, we find mutual understanding as one human race. Common ground makes communication possible.

            Let us put aside the question of our origin—whether created by God, or through “miraculous” events of chemistry and biology on the early Earth, or planted here by aliens. I hope you leave this page with new thoughts about your value as a human being.

            I believe you qualify for being valuable, even if you believe in a strictly material origin, because I—as a person—place value on you. You’re rare in the universe.

            Have you noticed gold does a masterful job being gold? No fighting, stealing, coveting, or endless philosophical debates among gold. It just behaves like good ol’ Gold all day long. Same with chickens. They’re stellar being chickens. They simply do what worthy chickens should do, don’t they? How about humans? Do we execute an excellent job being human—proving our worth? Might something be missing in our performance as human beings?

            If you’re like me, you love a good story. So I’ll tell you two—hopefully good ones.

First Story: The Golden Pheasant

From the Creator’s hand flew the crimson bird. “Golden Pheasant, fly! And find Me!”

            The expanse of the universe lay beneath the gray-spotted wings of the three-foot long creature. Silver-blue superclusters of galaxies shimmered in its golden crest. The Pheasant’s cape colored orange, upper back green, and the rear yellow.

            It hovered over the infinite light-poked blackness and the all-embracing presence of its Creator withdrew, filling the bird with sadness, but also determination. Where can I find You, my Creator?

Where do You nest? Oh, my Creator, give me a hint. Just one feather to show the right way.

            The bird set its beak toward lights grouped more tightly together. The cosmic web, like sparkling soap foam, looked so similar everywhere, only nuances of blue, red, and green. Somehow, the Golden Pheasant knew its origin was a Person, but everywhere seemed so empty, so lonely. It had never seen the Creator, but convinced He looked like a bird—the Pheasant felt attached to Him.

            I see Your fingerprints—I know you’re out there somewhere.

            The bird hovered around the Laniakea Supercluster, watching the hundred thousand galaxies moving strangely. How could their movements paint intergalactic art? The Great Nest had to be there.

Photo by Timur Kozmenko on Unsplash
Laniakea Supercluser - Nature video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rENyyRwxpHo

As the Pheasant flew toward a cluster of galaxies looking like numeral seven, it wondered if it could pick sunflower seeds close by. The bird swiped past one planet after the other while approaching the Virgo cluster, but not a single leaf, let alone sunflowers, grew anywhere.

            Hope ignited as it left the rocky surface of a tiny moon. Behind the horizon rose something like a massive eye—the remnants of a dying star.

            I’m not hungry. You must be watching over me. Where are you hiding? I miss you.

A stream shooting erratically from a bright light made the Golden Pheasant change course. Shy of nature, the bird steered clear of that menacing purple jet.

            The Pheasant discovered among the local group of galaxy clusters a magnificent spiral galaxy which seemed to feed on two small clouds. What a sight! After seeing thousands of galaxies, the bird had never seen such perfect spiral arms—and the galaxy glowed green.

            A sign of life!

https://hubblesite.org/contents/media/images/2000/20/968-Image.html
Photo by Graham Holtshausen on Unsplash

A long time ago, after visiting many of the billions of galaxies and passing pulsars, black holes, and dust clouds forming new stars, the Pheasant feared The Great Pheasant had left. But how could the Creator leave after telling it to find Him?—the bird kept searching across the universe.

            Hope made it spread its orange cape, covering its face except its eyes. This was it—it had to be. My Creator’s fingerprints are here too. I want to meet Him. The Great Nest rests around one of these billions of stars.

A blue, green, and white gem of a planet gleamed straight ahead.

            What beauty is this? Can this be…? A forgotten warmth in the Golden Pheasant’s core removed all doubt. After a search from one edge of eternity to another, finally—the home of its Creator.

            The bird dove through white clouds and admired oceans, fields, forests, lakes, mountains, so many birds and animals, and—cities… with peculiar looking creatures. They walked tall on two legs, and somehow never bumped into each other while talking into square-like devices. The bird couldn’t wait to figure out what these creatures found so fascinating about the squared little things. But the sense of the Creator’s presence among these industrious people captivated the Pheasant the most. Where did He live?

            Finally, it found a place to settle: in the forests east of the tallest mountains. No one would ever figure out it came from outer space. The Golden Pheasant spotted a potential mate there too—not as colorful, but it would work—confident it would fool everybody. But where hid the Creator?

Photo by NASA
Photo by Claire Smith on Unsplash

One year later.

            The Golden Pheasant, settled in a dense bush, felt incomplete. Even though its mate watched over twelve beautiful eggs, it still missed something. The original quest kept the bird restless. Remembering the sense of the Creator among the talkative people, the Golden Pheasant left for its last search. Time to put its shy character aside and get a closer look at the people who seemed to run the planet.

            After a long flight, it chose a country, a city, and finally a building. The Pheasant lunged through an open window and found the creature only seen from a distance. The bird landed on a screen, flapping before the apparently astonished person.

            “You know,” the Golden Pheasant said, “I’ve searched the entire universe, trying to find my Creator, but no luck—until now.”

            You raised your eyebrows and smiled, convinced you were dreaming of the talking bird. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m certainly not God.”

            “Well,” the Pheasant said, “His presence is all around in here. You must be precious to Him. Believe me, I’ve searched the entire universe, but this is the only place I’ve found my Creator. He must have created you to dwell inside of you.”

Second Story: The Core of Christian's Faith

  • 01

    At your doorstep stands the outlander you will always remember

    “Those who go to church still sin—they call themselves sinners. Christians go because they love God, knowing they need Him. They believe God loves them and forgives their sins once they confess—and they call themselves saints. Scandalous....”

  • 02

    A Short Story

The first story shows the immense distinctiveness of the human being compared to the vast universe, and the second reveals the big-picture story of how the Creator restored creation after the Tragedy of All Ages—an epic battle between two Kingdoms.

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