The Mystery of Life

Ecclesiastes 11:5 As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb [4] of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.
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I am increasingly aware, as a father of four, of the miracle of life. Cliche, sure, but true. To be aware of a miracle is to be knowledgeable about our lack of knowledge. How does the human spirit become attached to the physical body in the womb? When? That's the politically charged question, and one that is certainly mysterious (although, if I dare, still within our pay grade to discuss). It might be easier to deny the existence of the human spirit entirely, or to redefine it as the chemical byproducts of the brain, but I reject those beliefs as the antithesis to my personal experience. Human life is a mystery and a miracle, but it most certainly IS human life, which is distinct from animals and vegetables. Human life is essentially spiritual, even before it is physical. Our bodies are mere shells. They are not us. Nowhere is this more obvious than at a birth or funeral. Seeing the face of a newborn child, knowing that this person is experiencing life, just as we have, is a shock to our senses and sensibilities. Where did he/she come from exactly? Conversely, observing the dead body of a person who once walked and talked with us we become acutely aware of the absence of the spirit. Where did he/she go exactly? These are mysteries that should humble us and cause us to approach God with reverence. He is the giver of life and the author of our story, and yet we have a hand in the subplot too. What does it mean to be human? That's the question that we all pose with our daily efforts to live a meaningful autobiography.