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I often feared Him, constantly feeling His vigilant eyes on me.

In my mind’s eye, He was an old man with a flowing white beard, His hand gripping firmly around a weather-beaten walking stick.

And he ruled over the world from a brilliant golden throne.

How and where did I perceive this image?

In my catechism class, among other wide-eyed little urchins like me.

We hung on to every scolding word that seemed to hurtle out of the teacher’s mouth like a raging wildfire. I still envision her wielding her long, bony finger as if pointing it directly at me.

Whose vigilant eyes were these? They were the eyes of God.

This awe and fear followed me into my teen years and lingers still.

Over time, the fear subsided into a communication of sorts. I often talked to Him, asking for advice or simple favors, like, “Oh, please, God, let him call me tonight.”

I’m talking about my so-called boyfriend, the toughest guy in town. I thought I had the world by the underpants. I was an inexperienced, naive 16-year-old who grew up in a village with a population of about 200. What can I say?

But without fail, the phone would ring.

Except for a time or two.

On the rare occasions when it didn’t, my trust flipped to autopilot. I thought, “I believe God made the right decision. He’s looking out for me. I’m better off not talking to that boyfriend tonight.”

And I never questioned it or gave it much thought at that time.

I assumed God sees through an abusive soul.

Specific incidents in my life, which I have no explanation for and will get into later, caused me to look inward and reconnect with that innocent faith imprinted on my mind.

The next day, an advertisement for some books, including The Everlasting Man by G. K. Chesterton, popped up in my email—a serendipitous moment, I believe. Intrigued by the title and the promise of a unique perspective on history and religion, I clicked purchase.

Is Science an Invention of the Devine?

G.K. Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man is a book equivalent to a history class meets a detective novel with a dash of philosophical spice. Chesterton isn’t your average historian. He’s comparable to the teacher who sees a conspiracy in every corner of the textbook and isn’t afraid to call out the history book for being too dull.

Mainstream historians back in Chesterton’s time focused on evolution and materialism. They thought early humans were walking hairballs with clubs. But Chesterton? He’s more in tune with, “Hold up, let’s rethink this.”

He doesn’t imagine the early human as a simple caveman but more like the first philosopher, hanging out in his cave, thinking deeply about life, the universe, and everything—maybe even doodling some epic cave art.

Chesterton’s mission with this book is to shake us up and get us to see that history isn’t just a sequence of events you must memorize for a test.

He wants us to see it as a grand story filled with mystery, where every chapter is about figuring out what makes humans human.

It’s less about hunting mammoths and more about ‘why’ someone decided to paint a mammoth on their living room wall (aka their cave).

So, as you read The Everlasting Man, remember that Chesterton doesn’t try to give you the who, what, and when. He focuses on the why and the how on a cosmic scale.

It’s his way of adding more seasoning to the often bland stew of historical facts. You might find this old book spicier than you expected!

Whether you believe in the Big Bang Theory, evolution, or God made the first man and woman, Adam and Eve, Chesterton’s book is worth a read.

Takeaways from The Everlasting Man

The Role of Religion in Human History

You’re comfortably laid back in your overstuffed chair, watching a movie, but every other scene skips. You’d miss out on a lot of the story.

Well, Chesterton says that’s what it’s like when historians ignore the role of religion in shaping human history. He believes religion, especially Christianity, isn’t just a minor detail in the background. It’s more like the main character in the drama of human civilization.

We often focus on money, wars, inventions, or significant discoveries when discussing what has shaped our world. But Chesterton points out that what people believe—their religions—also has a huge impact.

These beliefs decide how societies are built, how people treat each other, and what they value most.

So, Chesterton challenges us to think bigger. He asks us not to overlook religion as a major player in humanity’s story.

Like a main character in your favorite movie, religion has influenced the plot of human history from the beginning, shaping everything from art and laws to how people understand right and wrong.

Critique of Reductionist Views of Human Evolution

Let’s dissect Chesterton’s big idea about how we view early humans like those often called ‘cavemen.’

Imagine if someone today was described only by their basic needs—like eating and sleeping—and nothing else about them was considered. It would be pretty unfair and boring.

Well, Chesterton thought the same about how some historians describe early humans.

Many historians back in Chesterton’s time looked at early humans and said, “These folks were simple, focusing on survival, and not much else.”

But Chesterton, in defense of these ancient people, argued that they were pretty deep and capable of thinking big thoughts. Hunting mammoths was not their only concern. They probably wondered about life, made art, and had spiritual beliefs.

Chesterton’s point is that early humans were much more like us than some think. They had complex thoughts and emotions, and reducing them to ‘simple cavemen’ is missing a massive part of the story.

It’s like saying your smartphone is only used for making calls—it ignores all the other amazing stuff it can do!

The Unique Impact of Christ

Imagine someone stepping into a movie and suddenly changing the whole plot—that’s how Chesterton sees Christ in the history of the world. He wasn’t simply another historical figure. According to Chesterton, Christ was a game-changer in every sense.

Before Christ, many different beliefs and religions shaped how people lived and thought. But when Christ came along, things started to change dramatically.

His teachings about love, forgiveness, and how we should treat each other flipped the script on what people thought was important.

Chesterton wants us to see that Christ didn’t make a small splash. He made a huge wave that reshaped cultures and inspired countless works of art, laws, and even how countries were run.

It was like dropping a new app that suddenly everyone is using because it changes how we do everything from shopping to chatting with friends.

The Interplay of Myth and History

We all remember the stories about gods, monsters, and heroes that seem too wild to be true.

Chesterton had some interesting thoughts on these. He believed myths are more than old tales to entertain us around a campfire. He thought they tell us a lot about what people back then believed and felt.

As a kid, we all had a favorite superhero. (I loved Superman—still do!) What if your favorite superhero in a movie was treated like a myth hundreds of years from now? People might say, “Wow, they believed in superheroes?”

Well, it’s not that believing the stories were true, but what those stories say about us. Myths can show what people value, fear, and hope for.

Chesterton argues that these myths are a key to understanding history. They’re like a society’s dreams, full of symbols and profound truths.

When we hear about Hercules or Odin, their muscle or magic is not the main focus. The critical point is understanding the hopes, fears, and ideals of the cultures that created them.

So, Chesterton is telling us to look at myths as entertainment and as a serious part of history that can teach us about the human spirit and how people see the world.

Begone the Cartoonish Image of the Caveman

One of my favorite chapters in The Everlasting Man deals with how G.K. Chesterton overturns the cartoonish image of the caveman, which many are familiar with.

You know, the typical scene where a caveman drags his chosen woman by the hair with a club in his other hand. While these images might appear in old cartoons or jokes, Chesterton gives us a much-needed reality check.

Chesterton argues that this portrayal sells our ancestors short, reducing them to mere brutes when, in reality, they were much more complex and capable of deep thought and emotion.

He invites us to see early humans as fully human, not as crude stereotypes. They were thinkers, creators, and perhaps even philosophers in their own right who pondered life’s big questions just as we do.

By debunking these myths, Chesterton defends the dignity of early humans and enriches our understanding of humanity.

He urges us to look beyond the simplistic narratives and recognize our profound connection with our ancestors, who were far more sophisticated than the clichés suggest.

There you have it—an interesting perspective from Chesterton.

Faith or Unexplainable Incidents?

Incident #1.

My husband, 4-year-old son, and I lived in Houston, Texas. I was a stay-at-home mom, and my husband was an underground cable company manager.

We signed a lease-purchase contract on a beautiful house in Bear Creek, a subdivision with a neighborhood adult and kiddy pool.

We were all moved in and settled. Now, it was time for a bit of relaxation.

I took my son to the pool daily to play in the kiddy pool while I splashed around in the adult pool. I met two other women there, and we became friends.

Then, one day, I was too exhausted and depressed to go to the pool. I lay in bed, drained of all energy. My husband is laid off from his job.

What were we going to do? I had a 4-year-old, and we owned one shareable vehicle.

We’d have to sell everything and move back into an apartment. We surely couldn’t afford to stay in this house.

As I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, dreading losing everything we own and starting over again, a strange sense of energy washed over me.

It was an absolute knowing, like a thought implanted in my mind. “Go to the pool. A woman at the pool has a job for your husband.”

I heard no voice, yet there was this subtle thought, a knowing, not urgent, but calming and reassuring.

So, I rose out of bed with an amazing ease, full of energy. Where did that come from?

When I arrived at the neighborhood pool, the woman said, “I was waiting for you. We need to hire someone for our company, and I was wondering if your husband was interested in the job.”

I was strangely calm, not overly excited or exuberant because I already knew. I had already been told.

But by what? By whom?

You decide!

Incident #2.

If you’ve read the post, The Startling Saga of Our Sick Society, you know I was a great partier in the past.

I lived within walking distance of my favorite pub. One night, I had quite my share of tequila sunrise shots.

Tequilas usually made me quite happy. But for some reason, that night, they made me sad.

So, I decided to leave the pub and walk home.

My house was about five or six blocks from the pub. I was about halfway home when I started to cry and cried out to the One who watched me. “Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you just take me?” (I don’t know what I was talking about or where that all came from).

My face was soaked in big alligator tears, and my legs wobbled from the heels of my shoes digging into the grass.

Have you ever fast-forwarded a character in a TV movie to eliminate the anticipation of seeing what happens next?

That happened to me. It seemed I was propelled a block or two ahead, and I was suddenly walking next to my house. I could feel it happening but wasn’t afraid of the feeling. I accepted it for what it was.

But what was it? You decide!

Incident #3.

Another weekend incident in the pub. Are you surprised?

I was standing at the bar, on beer number, who knows, enjoying myself to no end.

I was a happy-go-lucky drinker that night. No alligator tears—just fun!

While lifting my glass to swallow another drink of that crisp, golden brew, suddenly, my legs began buckling, and I felt myself quickly falling backward to the floor, but I didn’t fall.

My fall was intervened, and I was sped back into a standing position, intact and feeling fine, just as I had seconds ago. I felt my body propelling upright. It was surreal.

At first, I stood there motionless and thought, “What the hell just happened?”

But again, I accepted it, though I never forgot it.

Who or what intervened in my fall?

You decide!

All of these incidents happened in my much younger years, but I think about them more and more as time passes. They never leave me. I see them as if they happened yesterday.

I’d get an eye-roll depending on whom I told about these incidents. “Hmmmm,”… they’d say.

I’ve had other occurrences and a few clear and vivid dreams, one of which prompted me to write a poem.

What Does All This Have to Do with the Book The Everlasting Man?

Plenty!

I was uncomfortable believing in evolution, that we walked on all fours, saddled with a hairy humpback, lugging a chunky club.

The Big Bang Theory was just that, a theory.

The book The Everlasting Man fed my belief.

And I needed that!

Here’s My Poem

I lay motionless that night,
staring at the quick shadows
on the ceiling.

Listening to the wisps of breeze
forced out from the fan above.

I possess no conception of where he is,
but I see him.
He is smiling in apparent peace.

Contentment is his garland,
time a prelude with no consequence,
as I unite into this Mighty Realm.

He seeks no contact,
for if he does, it will break the natural serenity.
I am only allowed one glance.

I awake abruptly. It was a dream!

Perhaps, Dad, you have become one with nature,
as you were so much a part of.
Enduring all her moods, accepting her temper,
and her miraculous calm.

Now as I walk through the trees, a bush shakes.
A rabbit escapes from beneath, the birds in a melodic choir,
and morning dew caresses the leaves,
reminding me of nature’s perfect remedy to the everlasting forest thirst.

Perhaps, Dad, your spirit is among them,
and I thank you, God, for just one glance.

—By Cindy