I got home from a night out with friends, and guess who was waiting up for me...
Me: Oh! Hey God. I didn't see you there. Or there. Or there. Gosh, it's intense coming home to someone who's... everywhere.
God: Hi. I thought I'd stop by. It seemed like a good time since you're feeling slightly lonely and morose in the suddenly isolated aftermath of socializing.
Me: ....
God: How are you, kiddo?
Me: Well I went bowling tonight. It was fun. Did you create bowling just for me?
God: HA! No, it's merely another catalyst for humility that I allowed in your life.
Me: ...
God: ...
Me: So this is awkward. We haven't hung out in a long time.
God: ....
Me: Yeah... I mean, I've been busy, you've been... busy...
God: *rolls eyes* Well it's not like I'm sitting around waiting for you to talk to me, but... I've been sitting around waiting for you to talk to me! Ya little turd!
Me: Oh my goodness, you don't have to act so... omnipotent!
God: Darn right I'm your goodness! And you just took "omnipotent" completely out of context in an attempt to be clever, but I'll forgive you. Like I do.
Me: Thanks. So, what brings you knocking on the door of my heart tonight?
God: Well, see, kiddo, I've been... worried about ya.
Me: WORRIED about me?
God: Yeah, you've been so angry lately. And sad. And so hopeless.
Me: You noticed? Awww, Goddd! So sweet of you!
God: Listen, it's not that you've been feeling those things. In light of your life recently it makes perfect sense that you're feeling those things. That jerk-face really hurt you, and don't worry, that'll be taken care of later, but right now, there's things you can do that you simply... aren't doing.
Me: I KNOW, I need therapy, and I need to exercise more to increase my serotonin, and I need to eat better because sugar tends to--
God: --shh. shhh. No. You're all wrong. I'm not saying you need to get rid of those ugly things you're feeling. But GOOD GRIEF, you could at least talk to me about them!
Me: Oh. Oops. Well. Yeah. Okay. Yeah.
God: Sarah-- you're wallowing. You don't even want to talk to me about it.
Me: sorrryyy.
God: I am too. Look. I know you're mad at me. I know you're really, really upset and scared about how you could have gotten conned this badly from someone who said he was totes "in the know" with me. And I'm not going to get into details about it right now because I have other ways to tell you why it happened. You'll see eventually.
Me: But-- how can I ever trust anyone again?
God: It starts with me. You don't trust me right now. How am I supposed to give you what you need to trust others if your heart towards me is completely gated? You're scared that everything you know about me is a lie, because you thought I would step in like an over-protective parent and scoop you up out of that dumb-butt's lap, and I didn't.
Me: Why not?
God: Because I don't exist to make your life go the way you want it. This is my whole point! You don't trust me, because you are still clinging to the idea that Who I Am somehow lines up with What You Want, and Sarah-- it doesn't. Stop getting mad at me because I'm not as small and simple as you wish I was! What I'm doing is bigger than this or ANYTHING so far. You're bitter and angry at someone who is big enough to accept the fact that you're bitter and angry and still keep doing what's best for you, even if you get angrier and bitterer.
Me: Hmm. Wow.
God: Let go! Don't you realize? This season of life is the equivalent to a two minute time out you give to one of your kids in the daycare. It's nothing (although it is important part of their relationship with you, as the caretaker) yet they kick and cry and scream and hate you for it.
Me: Wow. I'm so embarrassed.
God: Don't hate me. This, in the grand scheme of things, is a short (though important) part of our life together. I'd like to see you stop kicking and screaming in the corner. Don't turn your back and hunch your shoulders in spite. Turn around and look at me. Try to understand that I'm a gazillion years older than you and know what I'm talking about.
Me: ...
God: And I love you. I'm right here in time-out with you, and it sucks just as much for me, if not more. Sarah. You are more precious to me than any of those children that you pour your heart and time into are to you. Does that blow your mind?
Me: A little bit, yeah.
God: Time-out is over. Don't sulk any more than you already have. Come back and join me, and the other kids. There's love and fun to be had when you are ready to stop hating me for taking away your perfect life. Step away from the angry corner. Come into the light. Know me, and know my other children. Love, learn, and play. And know that I'm watching-- and I'll take care of you.
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