Where Do Babies Come From? 

"As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything" (Ecclesiastes 11:5).

Stephan Hawking wrote, "Philosophy is dead. Philosophy has not kept up with modern developments in science, particularly physics. Scientists have become the bearers of the torch of discovery in our quest for knowledge" (The Grand Design).

In other words, science has a final answer for every question.

But that's not science; it's scientism, the worship of science. Science does not have universal adequacy. Scientists, however learned, cannot explain everything. They deal with the observable world—"the things that are seen—and do not have a method for looking into the world of unseen things. 

One obvious example: Scientists "do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child." They cannot explain the origin of the human soul and the mysterious growth of little human beings, cradled in their mothers’ wombs. 

Apropos of which: Carolyn and I have two brand-new great-grandchildren and another on the way. I gaze at those little ones (or the baby bump) with awe. 

A few months ago they didn't exist. Anywhere. Now here they are: Tiny miracles. Little human beings, made out of nothing. Creatio ex nihilo. "Where did you come from?" I ask; "How did you get to be you?"

Where did you come from, baby dear?

Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get your eyes so blue?

Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?

Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?

I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?

A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?

I saw something better than anyone knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?

Three angels gave me at once a kiss.j

Where did you get this pearly ear?

God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?

Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?

From the same box as the cherubs' wings.

How did they all just come to be you?

God thought about me, and so I grew.—George MacDonald

David Roper

9.5.18