In the early 1980s my wife and I were living in dairy farm country in upstate New York. One evening in late winter my wife and I were driving home from an engagement when a bright, fiery object streaked across the sky in front of us and landed in a nearby field. We stopped to investigate, and despite our trepidation we left the safety of our car and ventured into the field. The object turned out to be a twelve-foot-long, cigar-shaped metal craft of some sort. The ground and winter-killed vegetation around it were scorched, but the craft was intact and undamaged. A small hatch had opened, revealing a compartment that held a small child. The child was visibly upset, and smelled of a diaper that needed changing, but was not injured in any way.
We took the child to the local hospital where we learned the child was a boy. The police were summoned, and they investigated as well as they could given the astonishing circumstances of the child’s arrival. Unsurprisingly, no parents came forward to claim the child. We asked if it would be possible for us to adopt him, as we had already been considering starting a family prior to this incident. The adoption was arranged, and we raised the boy as our son, giving him the name Andy.
Andy Walsh can leap tall concepts in a single bound as he fights for truth, justice, and better communication between the sciences in which he was educated and the faith in which he was raised. I am astonished at his knowledge of so many disciplines, of popular culture, and of Scripture.
Because it is written by my son, you shouldn’t take my word for the quality of this book. Read the reviews on Amazon and Goodreads (you don’t need to read this review twice, though). Visit the Web page or Facebook page for more reviews and related information, including news about a discussion group. Then buy this book, and ask your local library to acquire it, and rave about it to your family and friends. You won’t be disappointed.
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