Intelligent Divine Design


 by Roberta N. Tuthill

Holy and Almighty God shaped Dad Adam from the sod,

Made Mom Eve from Adam’s rib, neither of them had a crib.

No childhood had either known; they came into life full-grown.

Not from monkeys did they come; such a theory is plain dumb!


Evolution’s theory? Dumb! Less precise than rule of thumb!

Takes more faith to claim it true, than God’s story, I tell you!

Even Darwin, in the end, found flaws he could not defend.

Those imbibing Theory Dumb hide that truth, to keep it mum!


Their imaginations? Wild! Apeing thoughts of minor child,

No need for reality with such base mentality!

Creative-pow’r in blob of slime given billion-years of time?

Reas’ning-pow’r of that kind really blows the thinking mind!


Children, fed that trash from birth, go-along in it with mirth,

They don’t know the truth of God, that He made us out of sod!

Minds, robbed of creative pow’r needed in this darkened hour,

Taught by minds already numb, teaching others Theory Dumb!


Ignorant a better word? Maybe they have never heard:

In His likeness God made man, for full fellowship His plan.

Though His plan was marred by sin, found a way to bring us in;

Through His one begotten Son, once again He makes us one!


— Roberta N. Tuthill, Copyright 12/13/2008 (3 & 4: 2/8/2009)

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Poem below was used on the back of my Dad’s business cards.

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Three monkeys sat in a coconut tree

Discussing things as they’re said to be.

Said one to the others: “Now listen, you two,

There’s a certain rumor that can’t be true!

That man descended from our noble race –

The very idea is a disgrace!


“No monkey ever deserted his wife,

Starved her babies and ruined her life.

And you’ve never known a mother monk

To leave her babies with others to bunk,

Or pass them on from one to another

Till they scarcely know who is their mother.


“And another thing you’ll never see –

A monk build a fence ‘round a coconut tree

And let the coconuts go to waste,

Forbidding all others to take a taste.

Why, if I put a fence around a tree,

Starvation will force you to steal from me.


“Here’s another thing a monk won’t do:

Go out at night and get on a stew,

Or use a club, a gun, or knife

To take some other monkey’s life.

Yes, man descended, the ornery cuss,

But, brother, he didn’t descend from us!”

— Anonymous (H.G. Tuthill Sr. 1930 business card)


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