Day three gives way to day four. It's time for time. Yaway's been hinting at it already,

this idea of giving chronological shape to this new world. Evening morning. These baskets hold a certain

amount of activity.

Days, he's called them.

The idea isn't complete yet, though.

Yahweh's voice rings out,

Let there be lights, lights in the vault of the sky

to separate the day from the night.

At the sound of his word, a star takes shape.

865,000 miles wide, a hydrogen touched by the flaming finger of God. It flickers and then

burns hotter, hotter, 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, 10,000 degrees, 100,000.

But the Word of God continues its work until the star pulses at an unthinkable 27 million degrees Fahrenheit,

enough to boil diamonds, world warming heat, a cosmic spring of light.

Yahweh places it just so, 93 million miles from the earth.

He tilts the earth just so, 23 and a half degrees, and sets it spinning like a top, moving in a great

oval around the cosmic bonfire.

Good.

Then he places a 2,000-mile-wide marble, 238,900 miles from the Earth,

sets that spinning and moving in its own orbit around the blue planet.

When the Earth turns its face from the sun each day and darkness spreads across the expanse, this marble will reflect

the sun's light, ruling the night sky. And so, sunbeams and moonbeams join the symphony

of creation. But the sun is not the only star Yahweh makes today.

...