Where Did God Come From?
Though my father died more than five years ago, vestiges of his presence remain. As I stroll through my house and my mom’s house, I can see his imprints. The sound of his voice has almost faded from my memory, but observable things he left behind keep his memory alive. On one of my bookcases rests a clock whose cabinet was forged by his hands. Almost every bookcase I own, he assembled. On many of his later projects are stamped the words, “Made by Buddy Wiles.” He constructed my mom’s entire bedroom suit. In her kitchen is a tiny what-not shelf he formed when he was a high schooler in Shop class. All of these items had a creator. His hands worked diligently. Wood was measured, cut, and assembled. Rough spots were sanded. Varnish and stain were applied. Read more...
Tweetable: Do you wonder where God came from?
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