There was a rock. It looked like an ordinary brown rock with dirt and lichen and cracks on it and in it. A hidden hand would pick up the rock every day. To examine it carefully. Rub some of the dirt off. Pick off some of the lichen and polish the cracks away. Then, over a mans' lifetime of doing this something special appeared. The rock became a large stone. Then a polished stone. Then a translucent pebble. Then a piece of gold dust. Then a microscopic diamond. Then an atom of the worlds' rarest material. Then an irreducibly exceedingly fine soul. The immortal soul that is you. And this is the work of God to bring it about to birth.
Happy Mothers' Day.
Happy Mothers' Day.
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