Genesis Chapter 1

So, picture this. Not a black screen, not a dark room. Just… nothing. No thing to be in the dark. No up, no down. No time, because what would you even measure? It’s the kind of quiet that’s so loud it hurts your head, except you don’t have a head.

It’s a cosmic, mind-bending emptiness.

And in the middle of all that nothing, there’s God.

He’s not floating, because there’s nothing to float in. He’s just… there. And you get the sense He’s been there for a while, just thinking. Maybe He’s bored. Maybe He’s just finally decided, “You know what? This place could use a little something.”

So, with no fanfare, no drumroll, He just speaks.

And BAM. Light. Everywhere. It’s not coming from a sun or a lightbulb; the light is the thing. It rips through the nothingness, creating the very first “day.” God takes a look, nods, and goes, “Okay. That’s good. I’ll keep that.” He separates the light from the dark, giving them names: Day and Night. Simple. Effective. Job done for Monday.

Day two, He’s back at it. The “nothing” is still a bit of a watery, chaotic mess. So He speaks again. “Let’s get some space in here.” He creates an expanse—a sky—to separate the water. Some water stays up, some stays down. It’s the original two-story setup. He calls it “sky.” Another look, another nod. “Good.”

Day three, God looks at the water sloshing around at the bottom and decides it’s time for some real estate. “Water, get over there. Dirt, show up here.” And just like that, dry ground appears. Land. And big puddles He calls “seas.” He’s not just making stuff; He’s organizing. He’s giving everything a home.

But then He looks at the brand-new dirt and thinks, “It’s a bit… brown.”

So He says, “Let’s get some green in here. Trees. Flowers. Plants that make seeds. Plants that make fruit.” And the earth just explodes with life. Not slowly, not over millions of years in this telling. It just happens. The ground that was mud a minute ago is now a full-blown, self-sustaining garden. And for the third time, He steps back and says, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Day four is for decorations. The sky is looking a little plain. “I need some lights up there,” He says. So He makes two big ones. The main one for the day—the sun. A smaller one for the night—the moon. Then, just because He can, He scatters a bunch of tiny, sparkly ones across the black canvas. Stars. Not just for light, but for signs, for seasons, for calendars. He’s thinking ahead. This isn’t just art; it’s functional.

Day five, He turns to the water and the sky. “You guys are empty. Let’s fix that.” He speaks, and the water starts churning with life. Big fish, little fish, and weird stuff with tentacles. Then He looks to the sky and fills it with birds. Everything is swarming, flying, swimming. The silence is officially broken. It’s noisy now. It’s alive. And God loves it. “Be fruitful and multiply,” He tells them. Basically, “Go have a bunch of kids.”

Day six arrives, and it’s the big one. He’s saved the most complex stuff for last. He speaks to the land. “Okay, land. Your turn.” And out come the animals. Cattle, little critters that crawl on the ground, and wild beasts. The planet is now teeming with life. It’s a zoo. A really, really big one.

God looks at all of it. The light, the sky, the land, the seas, the plants, the sun, the moon, the fish, the birds, the animals. It’s all there. It’s all good.

But it feels like it’s missing a manager. A caretaker. Someone who can appreciate it not just because they were told to, but because they get it.

So, for the first time, He doesn’t just speak to the nothingness. He speaks to Himself. “Let’s make someone in Our image.”

And He does it. He forms man from the dust of the very ground He just created. He breathes His own life into him. This one is different. This one is like Him. This one has a piece of the divine spark. He gives this new creation—humanity—a job: “Take care of all of this. The fish, the birds, the animals. It’s all yours to look after.”

God looks at the man, then at everything else He has made. The whole sprawling, beautiful, chaotic, and now complete world. And He doesn’t just say, “It is good.”

He says, “It is very good.”

And with that, He puts His feet up. It’s been a busy week.