To Imagine

To imagine:

of God existing — but not in any sense of being apart from any aspect of creation. That this is a God of particles and the infinite space between them, of emptiness and spontaneous appearance alike. I can image the existence of God without first cause, nor power to command. For me, it’s all of life, of the tiniest swirl of subatomic detail to the largeness of the universe expanding. It’s not some separate source that gives cause for this to happen, and not one to inflict ideals and punishment in our failure to obey them. To imagine God is the simplicity of finding myself in awe at the details of the world.

of course God is just a term, and what I’m describing here is existence, life, and all that gives support for it to thrive. This doesn’t need a label. Yet at one point, through pure wonder of our position in the world, of the beauty and terror that surrounds us — we gave a name to mystery. With this name came specific meaning, a direction now to cast a prayer, or blame for daily trouble.

this was a God of our creation.

to re-imagine now — of a nameless God, empty, yet giving rise to form. This is a return to mystery, an unknowing of all we once chose to believe in. It’s bringing God back to the details of the world, coming back to awe and wonder. There is no imaginary God. The miracle is our own existence within the vastness of…