The Cosmic Shoebox

There is an insidious lie going about, in so called developed societies, that because you can’t see something, it doesn’t exist, and because you can’t prove something, it’s false. This also manifests as the proposition: religion is irrational.

Don’t you believe it!

Every single one of us lives… by faith.

There is no escaping this primal position.

All our perception of reality is based on

Accepting at least one presupposition.


No one can absolutely prove to me

That I am not the GREAT COSMIC MIND.

And all reality, including you friend, is my

Mental projection, neatly self-designed.


I don’t really believe that – because I’m

Not rich, famous, or built like Adonis.

It’s somewhat more sensible to accept

More empirical verdicts of the senses.


I’ve never been to Australia, but I suspect

It exists, because I’ve seen the pictures,

And even met some Bruces and Sheilas.

It kind of reinforces my own conjectures.


I’ve never met the God of Jesus, but I firmly

Believe He exists, because, pictures apart,

I’ve seen how people thirst for Gospel values,

And how His grace vivifies the human heart.


I’ve felt the Spirit’s promptings in my life;

Seen His image in the smiles of children;

How ‘love your enemies’ is the only hope,

For a world riven by only loving one’s kin.


In the last analysis, strong beliefs

Such as mine, are not mere credulity:

But reasoned life stances based on

What we think best fits with reality.


The atheist would hit back: face the facts!

A god who personally loves each one of us

In a cosmos of maybe billions of life forms?

A self made comfort-creed – preposterous!


If God is there, then He is way beyond

All our clever ingenuity to understand:

I like to think of – a cosmic shoebox:

All creation within, yet held in His hand.


This awesome Being, then, stands without:

Beyond space, beyond time, beyond our ken.

All existence, with its laws and substance,

Is within, and quite incapable of sussing Him.


And are we then, some kind of pet project,

For a bored deity’s personal amusement?

For shoebox, read sandbox, or even circus?

Where our dramas form the main event?


Our ‘pale blue dot’ is the minutest atom

Somewhere inside this cosmic enclosure.

And quite likely one of millions of others.

Why imagine we’re His precious treasure?


It pleased the Eternal to send His Son,

To pierce through the box lid, as it were,

To reveal one central truth: love unknown,

And back it up with the gift of a saviour.


Though seeming absent, His perfume pervades,

And all creation is imbued with His scent.

We live and move and have our being in a

Wondrous world maintained by His covenant.