What Was It Like?

When God said, “Let there be light!”
What was it like?

An explosion of sound
Like rolling thunder
Clashing cymbals
Booming drums
Or a wildly cheering crowd?

Or maybe it was glorious music
An engaging ballad,
An organ performance
A symphony
A marching band
Perhaps an explosion of rock and roll.

Perhaps it was a sweet solo,
A Capella words with power
A soprano reaching star high notes
A bass rattling the foundations
A rich contralto
Or a rapper’s energy and rhythm.

Or maybe the Word had no sound
An explosion of light and color
Beauty illumined by soundless word
Dreams of mysterious symbols
Sculptures of thought and design
Even substantial structures of emotions.

Even that might be insufficient, so
A blueprint stretching infinitely
Connections intricate and planned
Mechanisms carrying unresisted power
Measurements of incomprehensible precision
A song, a picture, a word, an action, divine.

Or just God’s Word.
“And there was.”

Dedicated to James Kristian McClellan. Maybe it’s you!

The God-Talk Club – Homeschooling

[This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters, places, or events to reality is strictly coincidental. It is also part of a series. Characters who have been introduced in previous episodes will not be re-introduced. You can find a list of characters from episodes up to this one here.]

The God-Talk Club was gathering again at the Roadside Cafe, their regular meeting place. Recently, the owner had added a couple of couches and some more comfortable chairs in groups, trying to take advantage of the number of students who chose to study in his cafe, and coincidentally eat large amounts of snacks and drink a great deal of his soft drinks. He had bought an assortment of used furniture, which kept up the general décor of the place—accidental crossed with tornado aftermath.

Mark arrived earlier than usual, and claimed one of the new, more comfortable seats. He had just gotten settled in, when Ellen showed up with his regular large Coke. Generally they needed no words. This time when she delivered the drink she was leading a man who appeared to be in his late 20s, and who was dressed professionally. Mark immediately thought he was some type of executive, and wondered what he was doing here at the Roadside Cafe. Generally, the clientele ran to blue jeans and t-shirts, not professional dress.

“Mark, this is Bob. I told him about your group.”

“It isn’t much of a group. We just get together and argue on Friday nights.”

“It’s the only group that meets regularly and seems to keep most of the same people,” said Ellen.

“OK, yes, and I’m being rude.” He turned to Bob, half got up out of his seat, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” said Bob, though he looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Just settle in anywhere. There are no rules at the Roadside Cafe.”

Bob found a seat on another couch. “How many people are there in your group?” he asked.

“It really isn’t a group. It’s too informal. Usually there’s about half a dozen who show up. They show up when they want and leave when they want, but the discussion goes on. Most people just join by interrupting the discussion. Speaking of interruptions . . .” he waved at Jerry who was approaching.

“This is Bob,” he said, looking at Jerry and waving in Bob’s general direction.

Jerry walked over to where Bob was sitting and held out his hand. “I’m Jerry Simonson,” he said.

“If Jerry had his way, we’d have rules, and maybe a chairman,” said Mark.

Jerry, in a collared shirt and dark slacks looked a bit out of place as well, sort of a balance between Bob’s office wear and Mark’s torn and faded jeans.

Jerry chuckled. “And if Mark had his way, none of us would know anyone else’s names.” He paused. “So how has it been going, Mark?”

“It’s a pretty ordinary day in the middle of the semester. I finally got my grade back on that essay we discussed, and I passed.”

“What are you studying?” asked Bob.

“I’m at the seminary, M.Div.”


“Master of Divinity, preacher.”

“But he doesn’t really know if he wants to be one,” said Jerry.

“Maybe I’ll be a lawyer.”

“And lie about people instead of God?” Bob looked like he thought he’d just scored points.

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