Bright lights. Loud noises. Chaos. Confusion. If your brain was more fully developed at birth you’d have questions – lots of questions.
Pretend for a moment that you do have the mental capacity to ask questions. What would you ask? Your first question might be along the lines of, “Who made all this stuff?”
A bubbly nurse tells you, “People,” as she gestures around the room to an offensively bright light, some strange metal objects and a colorful painting on the wall.
“People made everything?” you ask.
“Well, not everything,” she says. “Some of it, such as animals and people, just evolved after a big explosion.”
Your puzzled look has nothing to do with your newborn-ness. It’s simply a reaction to the absurdity of what was just spoken.
“Wait, so you’re saying that painting over there was made by people but that bird on the windowsill came from an explosion? Am I missing something?”
Though none of us can go back into the womb and experience life for the first time, the perspective of a newborn is worth contemplating if we want to appreciate God. Could it be that the only reason that the mere existence of “stuff” – specifically living stuff – does not continually amaze us is because we have grown so accustomed to it?
This “stuff” was not made by accident any more than a painting was made by accident. Sometimes, it takes a newborn mind to see the complexity and beauty of nature and exclaim, “This was made by someone! Someone who knew very well what they were doing!”