Lessons In Wonder
The miraculous power of God through the eyes of a child.
I’ve never seen a child so delighted.
My eight-month-old son squealed and screeched as fish and even sharks swam close to the glass of the enormous whale shark tank. He banged his hands against it as if to say, “Again, again! Swim this way again! Let’s be friends!” There was no sense of fear. He doesn’t know sharks are dangerous. No sense of the boredom I’ve seen in so many high school students when I’ve chaperoned this field trip. This was his first time seeing so many of these creatures, and his joy was pure and unfiltered. While he may never remember the giggles and stamps of excitement as a shark came so close to him on the other side of the glass, I always will.
Because in that moment, I realized my son was teaching me something I’d forgotten: to take delight in God’s creation.
This past Spring Break was such a special time for Isaac and I. After the relentless past several months of managing life and all its particular nuances, it was a welcome respite to simply be with my child for a little over a week. We did very little at first. I took him to the park and pushed him on a swing, which he was arguably too small for (oops). I took him to the grocery store for the first time, which he absolutely loved (and so did our local grocers, who all fussed and cooed over his objectively adorable self). But most days, we would do tummy time, read touch-and-feel books, play peekaboo, and snuggle in those sweet afternoon naps.
The week culminated with one very special activity. My husband escorted us on our first family outing to the aquarium. I’d anticipated this moment all week, not only because I love the aquarium, but because this was it. We were making memories as a family. A dream I had harbored for so many years, one I had fervently wept and prayed over for decades, was becoming a concrete reality of bliss. By the power of God, we had been given a special opportunity to raise a tiny little boy who looks so much like Josh and show him the wonder of creation.
And you know what’s so funny about it all? Isaac was the one teaching me to take a moment and soak in God’s creation.
That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Isaac’s delight. It reminded me of the first time I felt that same wonder. Some eighteen or so years ago, I heard Louie Giglio give a talk called “How Great is Our God.” I would argue that Louie’s talk is one of the reasons I’m a science teacher today. In that lecture, Louie took the audience through a series of size comparisons of stars. I remember listening to that talk and feeling smaller and smaller with each star he mentioned.
If I were to give a modern addendum to his talk today, I would include the star UY Scuti. UY Scuti is a red supergiant in the constellation Scutum, located about 9,500 light-years away from our solar system. This star is now regarded as one of the largest known stars by radius, with an estimated size over 1,700 times that of the Sun.
There is a psalm that tells us that “by the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth” (Psalm 33:6). I don’t know about you, but this idea that God breathes stars out of His mouth like we breathe out oxygen molecules is simultaneously terrifying and mystifying. Because how could someone so enormous, so powerful, so incredible that He can breathe out flaming balls of gas bright enough to give light and heat to an entire solar system… How can a being that incredible... care about me? Who is nothing but a vapor in comparison to God’s enormity?
As I started wandering down this rabbit-hole of the sciences and God’s incredible work, I also remembered this very unique Instagram page I follow called Helnium. Helene, the chemist who runs the page, takes these very beautiful artistic images of hyper-crystalline molecules.
When I look at her work, I am often left in awe. Because how beautiful is it that these images do not come from paintings but from nature? God Himself crafted these molecules with such brilliance, such elegance, that the sheer image of them could outclass the artistic handiwork of any art made by man.
Perhaps one of my favorite verses that serves as the linchpin for my love of science comes from the book of Hebrews: “By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible” (Hebrews 11:3). My passion for science comes not as a means to an end or a desire for some high-paying job. My love for the sciences always came from a place of wanting to see and know God more deeply. He created this entire invisible world, just waiting for us to find it, and delight in His creativity.
And you know how I know this is true?
Because of laminin. Not to steal Louie Giglio’s thunder again but when I tell you that the knowledge of laminin changed the entire trajectory of my life at fifteen, I am not being in any way hyperbolic. How could this everyday molecule change my life?
Well, just look at it.
Laminin is a crucial heterotrimeric glycoprotein (400–900 kDa) that acts as a structural “glue” within the extracellular matrix (ECM) of basement membranes, essential for cell adhesion, signaling, and tissue structure. To put it more simply, laminin is the cell adhesion molecule. It’s what holds us all together, inside and out.
And it is constructed in the shape of a tiny cross.
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” - Psalm 139:13-16
The God who knit us together with cross-shaped molecules also hung on a cross for us. He signed His name in our very cells.
So how does going to the aquarium with my son somehow send me on this nostalgic wild goose chase of finding God in everything from space to cells? I think it is because he found wonder in something I had started to take for granted. As I said before, I had been to the aquarium field trip with teenagers and often spend that time corralling them, nudging them, trying to get them to find interest, all the while missing the wonders of God myself. How is it that God would fashion as shark so unique that it only feeds off of plankton and krill? How wondrous is it that God made sea dragons so leaflike, a perfect camouflage for their surroundings, or sea otters so fluffy on land, but silky and quick through the water? Everywhere around, creation sings God’s praise. It reminds me of a very powerful song by Hillsong United:
“If the stars were made to worship so will I
If the mountains bow in reverence so will I
If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I
For if everything exists to lift You high so will I
If the wind goes where You send it so will I
If the rocks cry out in silence so will I
If the sum of all our praises still falls shy
Then we’ll sing again a hundred billion times.”
—So Will I (100 Billion X)
If creation can sing out praises to our God, so can I. Let me never grow so comfortable with my field of study that I miss the powerful creator who made it all. This is why I am in science. To see God for all of His power and glory and wonder, and to share that wonder with the students in my care. Hopefully, if you’re reading this, you’ve seen the wonder too. As Easter approaches and we reflect on the work done on the Cross, let it not be lost on us that God knew and had His plan in motion before the very first star was breathed. The God who made the whale shark and the laminin molecule and the tiny eight-month-old baby humbled Himself to be drawn in human form, subject Himself to the evils of man, and to die a horrible death on a Cross for the remission of OUR sins. He paid a debt we could not pay, conquered Death, stole the keys to the kingdom of Hell, and rose on the third day that we might spend eternity with Him.
Only God could tell such a marvelous story.
So let us wonder at His glory.