The true wonder

Now, more than ever, I am utterly amazed at how the human body repairs itself. When I was a child, a young adult, even an older adult, yes, but I am now sixty-five years of age, and the physical wounds I continue to occasionally suffer still seem to heal themselves. I am not yet on a regimen of prescription drugs to keep my body systems functioning, but that’s all that drugs do—they assist the body to repair and renew itself, which is a function of biological life. No drug has ever raised a dead body to life.

This is only one of the wonders of the world that surround us without our recognition—miracles would be a better word. Yes, miracles, evidences of a power, even a benevolence, that not being part of the material world nevertheless animates it, even gives it the consciousness by which it can survey itself, appreciate its own beauty. Sophistication can pretend that all this comes into being of its own and moves and evolves on its own, but it still cannot provide an explanation for reason and consciousness.

We are transcendent, even as we think God is transcendent, yet we do not hesitate to run and join in the animation of the world, even when we do not recognize Him who is the life of all. Which came first, was it man, or was it God? Did we wake up to find Him already there, waiting for us, or is the reverse true? Did the Lord awake to find us already filling His thoughts? Already One of us, at least, has always been with Him, has always existed as Him. We are nothing less than images of each other.

And that is the true wonder of the world.