8. Ted sat under the vast expanse of the night sky

Ted sat under the vast expanse of the night sky, its beauty both mesmerizing and humbling. The stars, scattered like diamonds on a dark canvas, stirred his restless mind further. Questions surged through him, endless and unrelenting, each one unraveling another layer of the universe’s mysteries. He felt as though the weight of these thoughts was pulling him into the infinite itself, a place where answers felt as distant as the stars he gazed upon.

The expanding universe—this concept fascinated and troubled him. Uncle AR had once spoken about it, how the universe was stretching, moving outward, the galaxies rushing away from one another like ripples on an endless pond. But would it always expand? Or would it, one day, reverse its direction, collapsing in on itself, drawn back by some cosmic force? The Big Crunch, they called it. Ted imagined it—the universe folding back into a singularity, all its energy, matter, and time compressed into an unfathomable point. And then what? Would there be another Big Bang, another explosion giving birth to a new universe? Had this cycle of Bangs and Crunches been happening for eternity?

Eternity. The very thought made Ted’s head spin. To Him, Uncle AR had said, everything is the present. Time itself is a creation, bound to the universe, but He exists beyond it, untouched by its flow. Nothing could surpass or grasp His kind of knowledge. Ted tried to wrap his mind around the idea—an existence where past, present, and future were one, where everything was known, yet nothing could contain or define it. The universe, with all its mysteries, was merely a speck within the vastness of His understanding.

Ted’s eyes scanned the night sky, his thoughts drifting to the stars themselves. They weren’t just points of light, he knew—they were colossal, burning giants, their energy shaping the cosmos. Somewhere, in the hearts of these stars, the elements that made up his body had been forged. The iron in his blood, the oxygen he breathed—all of it had been created in the fiery deaths of ancient stars, their supernovae scattering these heavy elements into the universe. Ted marveled at the thought: he was, quite literally, made of stardust, a collection of particles born from the life and death of celestial bodies.

And yet, those same stars could die, too. Some became black bodies, remnants of their former glory, lifeless and cold. Others, like the iron in his blood, found their purpose elsewhere. Ted thought about how those iron atoms carried oxygen through his body, binding and releasing it in perfect cycles. Oxyhemoglobin, carboxyhemoglobin. The terms danced in his mind, each one a reminder of the intricate machinery of life. His heart pumped, his lungs expanded and contracted, and his blood flowed—all in sync, like the crankshaft and camshaft of an engine. The powerhouse mitochondria within his cells worked tirelessly, releasing energy from glucose in the ATP-ADP cycle. His pancreas, a silent guardian, regulated his blood sugar, ensuring the balance that kept him alive.

The complexity of it all was staggering. How could such precision, such harmony, exist without design? Uncle AR had said that nothing—not even slumber or sleep—touched Him. He wasn’t bound by human needs or limitations. He wasn’t born, nor did He give birth to any human. Yet, He created, with His own hands, like a potter shaping clay. The Creator’s touch was evident in everything—in the stars, in the elements, in the very breath Ted drew. And yet, the Creator Himself was beyond comprehension, an enigma that no thought could fully grasp.

For a moment, Ted felt as though he were floating. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath him or the air around him. He was neither dead nor alive, neither in the present nor the past. He was lost, utterly consumed by the depth of his thoughts. The questions came faster now, overwhelming him with their weight. What was the purpose of it all? Was there an end, or was existence a never-ending cycle? Who or what was the Creator, truly? Could such a being ever be understood, or was He forever shrouded in mystery?

Ted’s mind was a sea of unending questions, and yet, no answers came. The vastness of the universe, the intricacy of life, the nature of the Creator—it all seemed too grand, too infinite for his limited understanding. And yet, he couldn’t stop searching, couldn’t stop wondering. Perhaps, he thought, the search itself was the answer. To ask, to ponder, to marvel at the mysteries of existence—wasn’t that what it meant to be human?

As the night deepened, Ted sat still, his thoughts stretching as wide as the heavens above him. The questions would remain, unanswered and eternal, but in their midst, he found a strange sense of peace. In the vastness of the universe, in the unending mysteries of existence, Ted found himself—small, but significant, a part of something far greater than he could ever comprehend.