Thoughts on God
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**** Reflections inspired by recent run on comments thread “Jesus – A Man for All Seasons” by dougsoderstrom.*****
My brother died when he was not yet twenty. I, close to sixteen, was confronted early with a need to find a relevance to death and life.
I had been raised a Catholic with all the pomp and ceremony that entails. This meant I had exposure to a God who I couldn’t understand. When the question would arise, I was told that God was “unknowable”. He was a “mystery”.
I prayed to the virgin in my bedroom for understanding. I brought flowers in May for the make-shift alter in my room and said my prayers and rosaries faithfully. I was fascinated all my life that priests couldn’t marry, and nuns seemed always humorless. I looked at the beautiful statues and wondered why they always had such sad expressions.
God scared the hell out of me. I remembered hearing that at the end of time all the stars and heavenly spheres would turn to crosses in the sky. I looked through my bedroom window and hysterically begged God not to end the world tonight. I couldn’t have been more than eight. My mother heard my frantic cries and came to console me and explained that I was looking through a screen in the window that played upon light, it was an illusion; the screen distorted the view. To me, a child who looked through her window on a starry summer night, it was a frightening story told to an innocent to entice her, through fear, to God. Catholics never heard David say, “The heavens are telling the glory of God”.
For many years I felt a sinner because I hated fish and couldn’t choke it down on Fridays. I wanted meat. There was definitely something wrong with me.
When Chip died, I was keenly aware that I had often wondered of families with dead children. What made them special? Now I found myself a part of this breed. I saw how it ripped my parents up. I felt his loss myself and I believed that the mystery god either didn’t exist or didn’t care. His non-existence was easier to accept.
For several years I just gave up on God, and then I knew beyond a certainty that the universe itself was all God. Not some grandfather with a flowing robe and beard, but every cell of everything made God, including me. I came to know that Jesus Christ, while Lord and Savior to all I know, had really said that we ourselves have the power to become like him. He became redeemer mostly because he knew we don’t have the strength to believe that we can save ourselves. Our Godliness enables us, but we don’t recognize it.
In this way we are the image of God; we have the power of creation. We create every minute, everyday, with our very thoughts and intentions. This thought became an absolute for me when I became a mother. God was affirmed after being absent from my life for a long while by a baby growing in my belly.
I had been mad at God, for being unknowable and for taking my brother away. Only with new life that I brought forth did I begin to understand that not only was God knowable, from everything from my reflection in the mirror to the wind sweeping through the grass, but that no one is ever taken away, certainly not by God. We are all gifts to one another, and that remains forever.
This knowledge began with my first child, but it was only a seed of understanding. It was less, it was awareness; awareness of the miracle of creation.
The cells, a mass of non-determined muck, begin to regulate and progress and find the perfect place to be to become a human child; the fingernails begin to grow. My body was amazing the way it synchronized and orchestrated the developing child, and the emergent mother.
I became a child of God by becoming a mother. I have since studied God and many of his faces, and find such truth. If God is a mystery, it’s only because we don’t have time enough in one lifetime to know but a wisp of his facets.
**I once heard something about a man who walked to the top of a mountain once every hundred years and wiped the mountain top with a silk cloth. When the mountain had eroded, God had blinked………**