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When beginning words unravel modern chaos.

Where scripture meets everyday life and the search for meaning.

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Before the Edges: Finding God in the Formless Place

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Before the Edges: Finding God in the Formless Place Before the Edges: Finding God in the Formless Place A reflection on Genesis 1:2 and the space between what was and what has not yet come We are a people obsessed with edges. We want the sharp line of a definition: this is this. We want the safety of a role: I am a spouse, a parent, a professional. We want a sequence we can follow: first this, then that, then the next. When those edges disappear, we don’t call it neutral. We call it a problem. We rush to replace them. A new purpose. A new identity. Something to hold. But the story of creation does not begin with clarity. It begins here: “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” (Genesis 1:2) Before anything had edges. Before anything had a name. Before there was a “next.” There was formlessness. It is not a...

3:00 AM Marginalia: The Missed Call and the Guilt That Stays Awake | Theology of Everyday Life

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3:00 AM Marginalia: The Missed Call and the Guilt That Stays Awake | Theology of Everyday Life 3:00 AM Marginalia: The Missed Call and the Guilt That Stays Awake The phone rang this afternoon. I watched it vibrate. I let it go to voicemail. Now the silence screams louder than any complaint. Eternal First Words | September 2026 Three a.m. The house is still, Royal Palm Beach quiet except the AC cycle. My cousin called earlier. Number popped up, I saw it, and capacity flatlined. I couldn't be the listening ear for another round of flavor-of-the-week crises. I wanted to—family, love thy neighbor, bear burdens—but the tank was empty. I let it ring out. No answer. No text back from her either. Now guilt coils. Did something real happen? Is she okay? Why no voicemail, no "everything's fine"? I could call now, but it's too late/too early—waking her would just add noise. So the worry spins: I failed. As cousin...

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