The Unfinished Creation

The Unfinished Creation

A Foundational Narrative for The IT Company

On Work, Purpose, and Our Role in the Ongoing Story

Draft v1.0 | December 2025

########## The Story That Started Before Us

Billions of years ago, something began. Whether you call it the Big Bang or the moment God spoke light into existence, creation started—not as a finished product, but as a process.

Matter organized. Stars formed, burned, and died, forging heavier elements in their collapse. Those elements became planets. Chemistry became biology. Life emerged, evolved, and eventually became conscious of itself.

This is not a story that contradicts science. The physics, the chemistry, the mathematics underlying reality—these aren't obstacles to understanding creation. They are creation. They are the medium through which everything unfolds. God didn't create instead of natural processes. The natural processes are how God creates.

Our limited minds want to separate "God's work" from "how things actually happen"—as if divine action requires suspending the laws of physics. But that's a false divide. The laws of physics, the mathematics, the logic that holds it all together—these aren't competing with God's creative work. They're the very fabric of it.

And at some point in this unfolding story, something remarkable happened: God invited humanity into the process.

########## How Stories Carry Truth

Before we go further, we need to address how we're reading the ancient texts that shape this perspective.

The Bible is not a single book. It's a library—a collection of texts written across centuries, in different languages, by different authors, to different audiences. It contains history, poetry, prophecy, law, wisdom literature, letters, and apocalyptic imagery. Some of it stands up to rigorous historical scrutiny. Some of it is clearly allegorical—meant to paint a picture, to unveil a truth through story rather than through data.

When we try to read the Bible as a history textbook—expecting every passage to be literally, factually accurate in the modern scientific sense—we often miss the real truth and beauty of it. We reduce a magnificent, layered story to a set of claims to be defended or debunked. And in doing so, we miss what the authors were actually trying to communicate.

Consider the creation narrative in Genesis. This story was told by Moses to a people who had been enslaved in Egypt for four hundred years. Four centuries. Generations of forced labor, with their history, their identity, their understanding of who they were systematically stripped away by Pharaohs who wanted compliant workers, not a people with a sense of destiny.

So when Moses—with God—began to unveil the story of creation to these people, he wasn't delivering a science lecture. He was answering the deepest questions a displaced, traumatized people could ask: Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here? What is our place in the cosmos?

The creation story was never meant to compete with astrophysics. It was meant to tell a people who had forgotten their identity that they were made in the image of the Creator of all things—and that they had a purpose.

This is where allegory meets truth. Not allegory instead of truth—allegory as a vehicle for truth. A truth that data alone could never carry.

I know something about needing a story to tell me who I am.

I grew up in a very strict religious environment where faith felt more like fear and rule-following than a relationship with God. I learned a lot about what I was "supposed" to do, but I didn't experience the love, grace, and freedom that Jesus actually offers. As I got older, I drifted and tried to find my own way—believing in God but not really knowing Him personally.

In my late 20s, I had a real encounter with Jesus that changed everything. For the first time, I understood that God wasn't just a judge—He was a loving Father who wanted a relationship with me. I gave my life to Christ. But I still ended up in churches that focused heavily on performance. My faith became about doing things the "right" way rather than trusting in God's grace.

Eventually, I went through a very hard season. Failure in business. Deep personal struggles. A painful divorce. Hurt from the church. It was one of the lowest points of my life—but it was also where God met me in a completely new way. I began to understand His love, mercy, and grace not just in theory, but in real life, right when I felt least worthy of it.

During that time, God gave me four words that became foundational for how I live my faith: Love, Pray, Give, and Trust. They aren't just actions—they're invitations into a deeper life with God. Today, my relationship with Jesus is no longer built on trying to be perfect. It's built on His grace. I'm still growing, still learning, still being shaped—but now I know that God's love doesn't change based on my success or failure.

The story of creation—of a God who makes something good, invites us into the work, and keeps pursuing us even when we fail—isn't just an ancient text to me. It's the story that answered the same questions for me that it answered for those Hebrew slaves: Who am I? Why am I here? What is my place in all of this?

That's the power of a story that carries truth.

########## The Power of Mythic Truth

C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien understood this. They didn't see myth and truth as opposites. They saw myth as one of the most powerful ways truth can be communicated—because stories bypass our defenses and speak directly to something deeper in us.

Tolkien called the gospel story the "True Myth"—a myth that actually happened. The story of a king who dies and rises, of sacrifice that defeats evil, of a small and humble hero who saves the world—these patterns appear across human mythology because they point to something real. And in Jesus, Tolkien believed, the myth became history. The story entered the world.

Lewis put it this way: "The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact." Not a myth in the sense of a lie, but a myth in the sense of a story that carries a truth too large for mere facts to contain.

So when I read Genesis, I'm not reading a failed attempt at science. I'm reading a successful attempt at something far more important: unveiling who we are, whose we are, and what we're here to do. The story doesn't have to be literal in every detail to be true in the deepest sense.

And the truth it carries is this: we are part of an ongoing creative act. We are not accidents. We are not meaningless. We were made to participate in something cosmic—and that calling still stands.

########## The Invitation

The ancient Hebrew scriptures begin with a striking image. God creates a world—not a finished paradise, but a garden. A place of raw potential. And then he does something unexpected: he hands it over.

"Be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and subdue it."

This isn't a command to exploit or dominate. The Hebrew word translated "subdue" carries the sense of a gardener working soil—bringing order, cultivating potential, helping things flourish. God created a world full of possibility and then said to humanity: "Now it's your turn. Continue what I've started."

This is the concept of being made in God's "image." In the ancient world, kings would place statues—images—of themselves throughout their kingdoms to represent their presence and authority. But the biblical story makes a radical claim: it's not statues that represent God's presence on earth. It's people. Every person. Not just priests or kings—everyone.

We are, in a sense, God's representatives in an ongoing creative project. Not passive observers of his glory. Active participants in an act of creation that's still unfolding.

########## The Garden Was Not Perfect

Here's something that might surprise you: the garden of Eden was never described as "perfect." It was described as "good"—which in Hebrew thought means something closer to "functioning well" or "full of potential." It was the beginning of the story, not the end.

The Hebrew concept of "perfection" is really about completeness—and the story wasn't complete. The garden was a starting point. Raw material. A place where humans and God would work together to develop creation into something more.

This reframes everything. We're not trying to get back to some lost paradise. We're not killing time until God fixes everything. We're participating in an ongoing story—one that moves forward, not backward. The destination isn't a return to Eden. It's something greater: the full flourishing of creation, with humanity and God working in partnership.

If the center of the Christian story is God becoming human in Jesus, then apparently God's vision of a complete universe can't exist without humans. God has chosen not to do this without us.

########## How We Create

The way we create is different from how God created at the cosmic scale. We don't speak galaxies into existence. We don't set universal constants. But we were designed to continue the process within this system—using the tools God built into creation itself.

We use logic. We use mathematics. We use technology. We build systems. We solve problems. We take raw potential and shape it into something that didn't exist before.

This is what it means to be image-bearers. Not that we create like God did at the cosmic scale—but that we've been handed the baton. We're the part of creation that knows it's creating. We're the part that can choose to participate intentionally.

When an engineer writes code that automates a tedious process, that's creation. When a team builds a system that reduces chaos for a business, that's creation. When someone invests in another person's growth, that's creation. When a doctor heals, when a teacher educates, when a builder constructs—all of it is participation in the ongoing work God started.

It's not less sacred because it involves logic and systems. It's sacred precisely because that's how God designed us to work.

########## What This Means for Us

Every person who wakes up and goes to work is participating in this cosmic process—whether they know it or not. The architect designing a building. The contractor pouring the foundation. The healthcare administrator managing patient records. The business owner trying to figure out how to scale. They're all continuing what God started. They're all tending some corner of creation, trying to bring order from chaos, potential into reality.

And so are we.

When The IT Company removes friction, eliminates wasted time, or helps a business finally get technology working for them instead of against them—we're not just providing a service. We're clearing the path for people to do their work. We're giving them back the capacity to create, to build, to contribute to the human project that God set in motion.

Our BHAG—restoring one million hours of productive time to our clients by 2036—isn't just a business goal. It's a statement about what I believe. Every hour we give back is an hour someone can spend doing the work they were made to do. Every system we optimize is a system that frees people to focus on what matters. Every problem we solve is friction removed from someone else's creative work.

We exist to help people do the work they were made to do.

########## The Implications

This worldview has shaped how I think about every dimension of our business. Here's what it looks like in practice:

#################### For How We See Our Work

There's no such thing as "secular" work and "sacred" work in this framework. A ticket resolved well is sacred. An automation that saves someone an hour a day is sacred. A technology roadmap that helps a business achieve its goals is sacred. Not because we slap a religious label on it, but because all work that brings order from chaos, that develops potential, that helps people flourish—that's participation in God's ongoing creative project.

This elevates everything we do. The mundane becomes meaningful. The routine becomes purposeful. We're not just "doing IT." We're clearing paths for human beings to do what they were made to do.

#################### For How We See Our People

If every person is an image-bearer—designed to participate in creative work—then the people on our team aren't just "resources" or "headcount." They're co-creators. They've been entrusted with significant work. Our job as leaders isn't just to manage them; it's to develop them, equip them, and clear the path for them to do their best work.

This means investing in growth. It means giving people ownership. It means treating them as partners in a shared mission, not cogs in a machine. It means we want "inventors and analysts," not "grinders"—people who are actively participating in creation, not just executing tasks.

#################### For How We See Our Customers

Our customers aren't just accounts. They're organizations full of people who are each trying to do work that matters. The construction company building infrastructure. The healthcare practice caring for patients. The nonprofit serving its community. Each of them has a "garden" they've been given to tend.

Our role isn't just to be their "IT vendor." It's to be a partner in their calling. When we understand their business, align technology to their strategy, and remove the friction that's holding them back—we're not just delivering services. We're enabling them to fulfill their purpose more effectively.

This is why "Fewer Problems, Less Risk, More Value" matters. It's not just a tagline. It's a description of what it looks like to clear the path for someone else's work.

#################### For How We Measure Success

If our purpose is to help people do the work they were made to do, then our metrics should reflect that. "Time saved" isn't just an efficiency number—it's a measure of capacity returned to human beings. "Problems reduced" isn't just a service level—it's friction removed from someone's ability to create.

This is why tracking hours restored matters. This is why "Time Saved" should become a customer KPI in QBRs. We're not just measuring our performance. We're measuring our contribution to the human project.

########## What This Is Not

This framework is not a marketing angle. It's not something we print on brochures to seem more meaningful than our competitors. It's a lens for how I actually think—about our work, our people, our customers, and our purpose.

It's also not a requirement that everyone on our team shares this specific worldview. People come from different backgrounds, different faith traditions, and different perspectives on the nature of reality. That's fine. But this is the perspective that shapes how I think about what we're building and why it matters.

And it's not a claim that I have it all figured out. I read the ancient texts with humility, knowing that they're complex, layered, and often mysterious. I hold my interpretations loosely, knowing that others may read them differently. What I'm committed to is the trajectory—the direction this story points us—not a rigid systematic theology.

What I do ask is that everyone on this team shares a commitment to the outcomes this framework produces: work that matters, people who are developed, customers who are genuinely served, and excellence in everything we do.

########## The Ongoing Story

We are part of something that started long before us and will continue long after. The universe is still being made. Creation is still unfolding. And we—individually and collectively as a company—have a chance to participate.

Every business we serve, every person we develop, every system we build, every hour we restore—it's all part of the same story. The story of potential becoming reality. Of chaos becoming order. Of raw material becoming something that serves and blesses.

The ancient storytellers who first told of a garden full of potential, of humans made in the image of a Creator, of a calling to cultivate and develop—they were pointing to something real. Something we're still living out. Something that gives our work meaning beyond a paycheck, our company purpose beyond profit, and our lives significance beyond the years we have.

This is what I believe. This is why I do what I do. And this is the story I hope we're writing together.

— — —

"God creates humans as the image bearers to rule over creation... What does that mean, to rule and reign? Be gardeners. Humans are gardeners. They are made to cultivate, to develop, to bring potential into reality."

— Tim Mackie, The Bible Project

"The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact."

— C.S. Lewis