That was Now, This is Then

by Michael Z. Williamson

Holy Father, you keep giving me lessons to learn from, and I’m trying. But if it pleases you, can you slow them down just a little so I can try to keep up?

Martin once again exercised the privilege of rank for first watch shift. Staying up late suited him. Getting up early less so. A two-hour chunk in the middle of the night was somewhere below taking a dump in a porta-potty in Alaska at -45°F.

Rich would have to consider how the closest person here to his moral and theological position was a Muslim. But it just showed that God was everywhere, if people would only listen. And how could he deliver that message in a way people would hear?

Dr. Raven put in, “What you have to remember is that fire, shelter, and sharpened sticks and rocks predate us as a species. We inherited those. We are genetically toolmakers and fire builders.” “Hmm. I hadn’t considered that.” She asked, “What’s your first instinct if something doesn’t move that should?” “Hit it with a…damn, you’re right.” She actually grinned. “Yup. Not even a conscious thought. Grab a rock and hit it. Grab a stick and pry it. Grab a rock, sharpen a stick, and poke it. Concepts beyond most animals are innate to us. We’ve certainly had fire long enough to predate Homo Sapiens and behavioral modernity.”