Body
I won't be unpacking the basic fivefold paradigm here—I explore it thoroughly in my book Impossible: Forgiveness to the Power of Five—but here’s a quick summary: our human experience can be understood through five spheres—body, mind, heart, spirit, and collective.
The body is first. And the apple, that Eve ate is a physical manifestation of evil. God warned them they would die if they ate it—and they did.
But how does chaos show itself here? I think we see it in the Law of Entropy.
I’ve always felt a tension between the Darwinian theory and the Law of Entropy.
Darwinian evolution—developed by Charles Darwin—is the theory that the species changed over time through natural selection. Apparently individuals with traits that help them survive and reproduce are more likely to pass on those traits, gradually shaping the population. We evolved.
Entropy, on the other hand, is the tendency toward disorder. It describes a slow decline into chaos and unpredictability.
Imagine your bedroom. When it's neat and organized, it reflects low entropy. But leave it alone, and disorder creeps in—clothes on the floor, papers scattered. That’s entropy at work.
This drift toward disorder is a fundamental law of physics. It’s why:
Left alone, the universe slides into chaos. Your house doesn’t clean itself—it takes effort. Stars burn out, structures crumble, ice melts.
Entropy is the universe’s tax on time. Disorder always increases.
In other words, it’s the basis of our suffering. We are all victims of entropy.
By eating chaos, Adam and Eve infected the whole earth. Evil doesn't just reside in us - it surrounds us.
God warned them.
"The ground will grow thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat wild plants. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field."
—Genesis 3:18
****
Personal Update:
I started this blogging series by describing how I had come to live in Winkler. I had collapsed. At the time, I was wondering: What finally pushed me over the edge?
Recently, I was talking with a friend whose husband has lived with Parkinson’s for years. She’s gathered a lot of insight—not just the medical facts, but the daily, lived realities. During our conversation, she mentioned another friend who couldn’t even make a grocery list because of her Parkinson’s.
That was it.
I remembered walking around my apartment, frozen—not in fear, but in dysfunction. I knew I needed groceries, but I couldn’t even make a list. I couldn’t get out the door.
Suddenly, I identified completely with her friend. And in doing so, I saw myself more clearly.
Apparently, this inability to perform basic executive functions—organizing, planning, initiating—is a common symptom of Parkinson’s. When those functions fail, life becomes unmanageable. You need help. That’s when I called my daughter.
Not knowing the name of it, brought shame, confusion, and a kind of despair that shut me down. But simply naming it—acknowledging the reality of Parkinson’s—began to lift the fog. It demystified things enough that I could start thinking about strategies, tools, and “crutches” to support my brain where it’s breaking down.
And how will this affect my creativity?
Apparently, I can still write—or at least I still want to. There’s something alive in me—left brain or right brain, I don’t know. But I know I still have work to do. I’m going to continue my legacy project: trying to put into words what walking with God has meant to me, and how He has helped me through this troubled, beautiful, heartbreaking life.
This is the verse I’m holding on to today.
“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he,
I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”
Isaiah 46:4 (NIV)
The body is first. And the apple, that Eve ate is a physical manifestation of evil. God warned them they would die if they ate it—and they did.
But how does chaos show itself here? I think we see it in the Law of Entropy.
I’ve always felt a tension between the Darwinian theory and the Law of Entropy.
Darwinian evolution—developed by Charles Darwin—is the theory that the species changed over time through natural selection. Apparently individuals with traits that help them survive and reproduce are more likely to pass on those traits, gradually shaping the population. We evolved.
Entropy, on the other hand, is the tendency toward disorder. It describes a slow decline into chaos and unpredictability.
Imagine your bedroom. When it's neat and organized, it reflects low entropy. But leave it alone, and disorder creeps in—clothes on the floor, papers scattered. That’s entropy at work.
This drift toward disorder is a fundamental law of physics. It’s why:
- Ice melts in your drink
- Hot things cool down
- The universe spreads out its energy
- Here’s the reality: disorder is not a mistake—it’s the default. Order is always artificial and temporary. Disorder happens naturally; order requires energy.
Left alone, the universe slides into chaos. Your house doesn’t clean itself—it takes effort. Stars burn out, structures crumble, ice melts.
Entropy is the universe’s tax on time. Disorder always increases.
In other words, it’s the basis of our suffering. We are all victims of entropy.
By eating chaos, Adam and Eve infected the whole earth. Evil doesn't just reside in us - it surrounds us.
God warned them.
"The ground will grow thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat wild plants. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field."
—Genesis 3:18
****
Personal Update:
I started this blogging series by describing how I had come to live in Winkler. I had collapsed. At the time, I was wondering: What finally pushed me over the edge?
Recently, I was talking with a friend whose husband has lived with Parkinson’s for years. She’s gathered a lot of insight—not just the medical facts, but the daily, lived realities. During our conversation, she mentioned another friend who couldn’t even make a grocery list because of her Parkinson’s.
That was it.
I remembered walking around my apartment, frozen—not in fear, but in dysfunction. I knew I needed groceries, but I couldn’t even make a list. I couldn’t get out the door.
Suddenly, I identified completely with her friend. And in doing so, I saw myself more clearly.
Apparently, this inability to perform basic executive functions—organizing, planning, initiating—is a common symptom of Parkinson’s. When those functions fail, life becomes unmanageable. You need help. That’s when I called my daughter.
Not knowing the name of it, brought shame, confusion, and a kind of despair that shut me down. But simply naming it—acknowledging the reality of Parkinson’s—began to lift the fog. It demystified things enough that I could start thinking about strategies, tools, and “crutches” to support my brain where it’s breaking down.
And how will this affect my creativity?
Apparently, I can still write—or at least I still want to. There’s something alive in me—left brain or right brain, I don’t know. But I know I still have work to do. I’m going to continue my legacy project: trying to put into words what walking with God has meant to me, and how He has helped me through this troubled, beautiful, heartbreaking life.
This is the verse I’m holding on to today.
“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he,
I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”
Isaiah 46:4 (NIV)
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