In the Image of God

When I looked up at the stars on one September night, that feeling of my insignificance, my littleness, my absolute minuteness engulfed me. Yes, compared to the closest star next to me, I am close to nothing.

I shouldn’t even be paralleled with the seemingly infinite universe; yet, here I am. I often found myself wondering how we came to be in this world, what the true origin of life was. Raised as a Christian since birth, I have believed God created man in his likeness, and God himself is life. My stable faith was put to the test when in my 9th grade class I first glimpsed how the science world explained the source of our existence. The forty five minute video on the Big Bang Theory elaborated persuasively on the sudden appearance of a dot that gave a rise to the whole universe.

In my sophomore year, I scored a high A on the evolution chapter of the test. More and more cold, hard, proven facts bombarded this fundamental reasoning that never ceased to explain to me everything: why the caterpillars must sprout wings, why the lion must eat the deer, and of course why chimpanzees look like humans. From my biology book to everyday language, I kept hearing the word “adaptable.” When I asked why wisdom teeth had to be pulled out, I received the reply, “they aren’t good for adapting.” When I questioned why the kid didn’t play with his classmates, they told me he wasn’t adapted.

When I looked up on line the causes for the market’s crash, you know the answer, it didn’t adapt well. Such examples were so logical and true, but they soon seeped into my most important rationales. I actually began to go blind, only seeing why the flower had intricate patterns—to attract more bees guaranteeing the next generation life. I listened to the quick researchers proving to me that 98% of our chromosomes are shared by chimps, I traced down Old Darwin’s theory emerging from the ancestral protista, and I absorbed the fact based big bang theory.

Through it all, I didn’t deny God’s existence but I questioned incessantly my once base that answered me everything. So, I was thankful when one day, a sudden insight went through me.  It startled me from my long sleep, and I realized my foolishness. Why does it all matter? Truly, what difference does it make if thousand of theories are published about life’s origin, if suddenly the chimp’s chromosomes match 99.9% of human’s, if Darwin was proven right?

You see, I didn’t need the Big Bang Theory proven in accordance with God’s way of creating the universe, nor did I require Darwin’s tree of life debated over several mouths to understand the depth of my ignorance. My one question, how can you have life without life, found an answer. Whatever people called it, however way I represented it, it was affirmed to me that God himself is life. I don’t have to look up at the stars nor analyze the differing types of species. I myself, who is a thousand times less than the comma I just used, am a breathing testimony to one of the most brilliant creations ever made. My complexity is immeasurable, and I live.

Yes, I will forever declare, I am created in the image of God.