God saw that it was good Michael McGirr

I love making lists. They seem to keep chaos from the door for just that little while longer. If the looming day or week looks busy, I start by making a list of all that everything that needs to be fitted into it. It doesn't feel so bad when all of life's demands can be confined to a single sheet of paper.

I always make sure that the list includes a couple of things I have already done and a couple more that are easy to do. Then, before I know it, I have a list with three or four ticks on my sheet and I feel like I am starting to make some headway on the field of life. I feel like I am beginning to get chaos back into its box.

My wife and I could never make a list of all the things our little children have brought into our lives. Our twins, Jacob and Clare, are four months old. They have brought us deep wonder and joy and a sense of humble gratitude that God's ideas should be so much bigger than our own. Of course, they have brought us many loads of washing and a few sleepless nights. They have also brought us an impressive supply of cardboard boxes.

The pram came in a box. So did the baby capsules for the car. So did all sorts of other items which we were sure we'd need but usually haven't. We have boxes which appeared magically full of food on our back doorstep when we came home from hospital with the babies. And nappies, which disappear just as magically, leave boxes behind when they go. Come to think of it, we could make a fine list of all the stuff which has entered our place under cover of cardboard.

All of this has been good news for our two-year-old, Benedict. Despite what anybody says, we suspect that the Pope took his name from our Benedict. This is because our Benedict is so wise. He can look at a cardboard box and see a ship or a house to play in.

The retail stores will be disappointed that there are few toys people have bought for Benedict which give him as much pleasure and stimulation as a decent piece of cardboard. He can have a new car every day of the week. This is just as well, because Benny's cars take a lot of panel beating.

We are not the only folk who have been bringing cardboard into our town. There's a wonderful woman who conducts a monthly Sunday school for little people. She recently took delivery of a new washing machine. The machine arrived in a box so vast that all of ours were dwarfed by comparison. Louise looked at her new washing machine and saw work. But when she looked at the empty carton, she saw that it was good.

Louise decided to turn the carton into a 'creation box'. She cut doors in either end and lined the interior with pictures of planets, birds and animals. Best of all, she cut a porthole in the top and covered it with cellophane. Then, when a child had crawled inside into the dark, she shone a torch through the cellophane to give the child the idea of God letting there be light.

Maybe it's lucky that our Benedict was not around for the original creation. His turn to enter the creation box duly arrived. Before long, we could hear banging inside as Benny began to pull the stars out of the firmament. He pulled down the partition that separated the waters of the heavens. Then, before light could shine in the darkness, his little hand appeared through the top of the box, seeming to remonstrate with the creator. Benny, it seemed, did not subscribe to the biblical account of creation.

Or perhaps he does. The idea of creation which we find in the Bible is an idea of finding order and purpose in what would otherwise be chaos. God does not use lists to create order and control. God's creation is not made of cardboard to be neatly folded into one shape or another. It is far more mysterious than that, far more full of life. It leaves plenty of room for small people to experience something really big.

Sometimes, during the summer while the weather is warm, we allow Benedict to stay up late enough to see the moon and the stars. No matter how many times he has seen them before, he still stares at them with wide eyes. He loves to say goodnight to the moon. Then he comes inside and we say our prayers. He asks God to bless all the people he loves.

'God bless Nanna ...'

Gradually his eyes start to close.

God bless Grandma ...'

While a little boy sleeps, God notices that the twenty millionth day was also good. Creation is still going on.