Whispers in the Heart, Part 22

This week we continue on with the first chapter of my “Remnants of Eden: Evolution, Deep-Time, & the Antediluvian World.” God bless, and stay with me as the story unfolds with the next post…

I could now see not only the godless agenda of the secular dogma to which I so long adhered, but also how it is forced, by those who remain as I was, on those lacking the knowledge to critically refute it. I also came to the realization that the agenda for what remained of my company was the antithesis of my new worldview, and that obvious fact began to weigh heavily on my heart. I had sacrificed everything worthwhile in my professional life for a path that I could never again in good conscience follow.  

For a few weeks I tried to compartmentalize my beliefs, segregating them from what remained of IBS in an effort to salvage whatever I could. I was vastly unsuccessful, and often found myself angry and depressed during that time. Furthermore, I absolutely could not reconcile my beliefs in young-earth Biblical creationism with the evolutionist notions at the company’s core. Since my shift in worldview, I had also concluded that my basic concept had likely never been viable since evolution was not an actual feature of life, and any potential success would merely be an artifact of common creation as opposed to common descent. Regardless, there would be those who would push the matter, using whatever we achieved as indicative of the veracity of evolution. I could not be part of that.

The company’s legal advisor, Carl, was all that remained then of that hopeful group I once surrounded myself with. A good friend, he was my most trusted partner. Dedicated beyond anything I had originally hoped, Carl came the closest to understanding my vision for the group as a whole; knowing the seething potential of the work I had planned, seeing it as I once had. Despite the constant drizzle of disappointment over the past years, he remained my most ardent supporter and a good friend. I knew the company had finally reached its ultimate end, yet I was not certain how to tell him.

I called Carl one afternoon several months later. I probably rambled as much then as I had the first time I met him, but I finally poured the truth out. I couldn’t tell what he felt then, whether confusion or anger or something else, but he took it well. Perhaps he, like me, had seen the end coming and was ready to put our adventure to rest. Even so, he asked me to think about it before ultimately abandoning the project, asking that if I ever reconsidered, I include him in its rebirth. I dutifully agreed. That time never came, for Carl moved far away shortly afterwards. The remnants of the company, all the research and documents, detailed illustrations and intricate schematics, broken hopes and unfulfilled promises, the whole of International Biological Services, lingers quietly in a dark place.


The Story Continues with the Next Post…


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