There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand:  the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on the rock, they way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a maiden (Proverbs 30:18-19).

I know that there are perfectly rational, scientific explanations for aviary aerodynamics, for reptilian locomotion, for nautical engineering, and even for the psychological processes involved in romantic relationships.  But still, there's something wondrous and poetic about the way that an eagle soars in the sky.  There's something astonishing and fascinating about the fluidity and efficiency of motion in a legless creature "running" across the smooth surface of a rock.  There's something fresh and exhilerating about the flap of sails, the spray of water as a ship cuts through the waves, the emotional buoyancy of such an experience.  And, as anyone who's ever been in love can attest, there's something deep, mysterious, and meaningful about young love -- the "I'd do anything to be with you" that's far more than the sappy love songs which try to adequately encapsulate such impossibilities.

We can understand something rationally, even while we cannot truly understand it on a heart level.  At the end of the day, science can only bring us so far.

To me, these amazing, incomprehensible phenomena are signs of God's glory.  They're demonstrations of His greatness -- calling cards of his unfathomable ingenuity, knitting the world together in ways that are inspirational.  Many seek after truth by means of the scientific method.  This isn't bad; and it's not fruitless either.  The more we research the vast expanses of the universe, the more we pursue the philosophical arguments, the more we test the historical reliability of biblical narrative, the more we discover the underlying laws of nature -- the more we find proof for belief in God.  But still, if we're stuck with using nothing other than scientific technique, then we find ourselves stuck with a level of incomprehension.  If we insist on theological analysis and categorization, then we miss the point of the theos himself.  Or, to put it in other (non-theological) terms, it's like if we start mathematically examining the meter and word-count of poetry, we can easily miss the way that it moves us.  The fact is:  an element of inexplicability and wonder is a good thing.  It keeps life interesting and allows us to maintain a level of peace and sanity.

God doesn't just explain the complicated things of this world.  He inspires us, moves us, refreshes us, captures us, and motivates us.  We don't have to exactly understand how He does it; we only know that He does it.  And I, for one, am content to remain in a state of amazement.