In the beginning there was no earth, no air, no fire, and no water. There were no up quarks or down quarks. There were no leptons or nuclei.
There was no such thing as color – the behavior of light in response to a material thing.
There was no such thing as smell – the interpretation of matter by an airborne sampling.
There was no touch – the physical sensation of contact between two material things.
There was no sight – not of our sort.
No taste.
No ears.
No time.
But there was a Being, spirit, infinite, I AM. In that being there was One, and there were Many. Here was Love. There was Joy. There was True Laughter. There was a Word, a Voice. There was Artist, but not yet art.
And that Voice said Light, and extended Himself a finite canvas to paint the only thing that could be worth painting, to paint the I AM.
The art has a beginning – it began when time did – but it will have no end. Only endings. Even now it still grows and expands, twists and intertwines, rises and sets, spins and doubles back.
The Voice will never be silent.
—N. D. Wilson
Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl
Via: Desiring God Blog