In the Beginning


I first met God as a small child, wearing my fancy dress. We played some simple games and I was smitten. It was easy. Once you get the hang of it, there’re so many things needing to be baptized or buried.  But salvation is a different story. The fat boy in third grade, for instance. He had no friends, and was bullied and ridiculed constantly–so easy to torment that even the teacher got into it. One time, she kicked him viciously in the shins while he was trapped in his desk, directly behind me. He cried and tried to fend off her blows, snot smeared on his face, hot with humiliation.

Safe at home, I fantasized how I’d save him by inviting him over to play. It would be like Cinderella, only Fat Boy was the one with wicked step-sisters and the terrible life, and I was the powerful, beautiful princess. I never invited him over, and life moved along. But it never moved completely past his pain.

The Little God I knew back then had arranged a nice white life for me, mostly safe, with a few disappointments, and some near-misses which I interpreted as signals of my importance. There were thin cracks in the mirror, and a few dangling questions, but I was on the road to heaven. It wasn’t until my divorce that Little God blew up on me. My good girl image was shredded, inside and out.

My soul was a combat zone, and I wailed and flailed. But sometime, somehow, in the midst of my rage and sorrow, Big Truth rolled in like a tank rolling into a skirmish. Big Truth lifted the hatch, pulled off His helmet, and saluted. I snapped to attention, frightened, ashamed. I could tell this wasn’t going to be a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of truth. Sure enough, Big Truth raised a bullhorn and shouted, “All have failed. All are forgiven. All are enlisted. All will die.”

It seeped from soul to bones. I repeated this strange declaration in my mind, “All have failed. All are forgiven. All are enlisted. All will die.” Big Truth nodded, clearly reading my mind, and held the salute until I saluted back. It was a feeble gesture on my part, but it must’ve been enough, because Big Truth climbed down, toting a large box of treaties and legal documents. I thought I was going to have to sign my life away, but instead, we built a fire and burned them. “You need to relax,” Big Truth said. “If anyone should be uptight, it should be me. And look. I’m calm. I’ve got this.”

“I’m trying,” I said. “But you’re freaking me out. You’re not exactly what I thought You were.”

“Of course not. Would you want me to be what you thought I was?”

Even though I actually did want God to be exactly as I thought, I knew that wasn’t the right answer. “No, I guess not,” I said. “But then, who are You?”

“Hmmm,” God said. “Good question, baby. You can call me pretty much anything. And you’ll be a little bit wrong. But no worries. I’ll hear you.”

Then God mentioned that a few of His buddies were going dancing later on and invited me along. I went straight home, shed my bulky clothes, and put on my dancing shoes.

Out of uniform, with a few beers in Him, God is one heck of a dancer. And His band, Sweet Jesus, what a band!

Before we called it a night, I cozied up to God and said, “C’mon. Really. What’s your name?”

God took a deep breath. His eyes burned with a fearsome love. “Like I said, I have a lot of names,” He said. “But for now, you can call me Fat Boy.

19 thoughts on “In the Beginning

  1. Hiya Rita! It’s Carole of Joseph and Carole from grad school days. From what seems like a galaxy away I send my gratitude for your willingness to share your visitations and explorations of the faces of God. Your encounters are those of all of us, yet many of us do not recognize it, for in a way it is far too simple. Thanks for the reminders.
    I have thought of you often and prayed for you to be mended. It is clear that you have not yet completed your mission on this planet; your voice will join others in proclaiming the presence of a god within each and every one of us. Thanks so much for your your time and your eloquence. I know a number of people who will be grateful for your blog submissions and will share immediately. Peace.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Whoa! This contact and your comment makes me feel quite glad to be a citizen of Cyberville! Am sitting here with John, flashing back to the grad school days, the polyester party, and other infamous endeavors. Your kind comments and enthusiasm give me goosebumps and energy. Thanks, and yes, peace. Deep Peace.


  2. Very touching Rita. You were the first person to bring me to God. I am still very blessed by that today. I look forward to reading more from you. Kevin

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Rita, Joyce told me about your blog and forwarded “In the Beginning.” The writing sets off sparks and flares, but it also contains a great deal of wisdom about God’s disguises, humor, requirements. I, too, write on WordPress. If you can put me on your list of subscribers, I’d love to receive future installments. Best, G.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Where were you in my Aeonian days at AHS? I have no memory of a talented writer submitting literature for publication to class up that newsletter – I love your writing!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. P.S. Fat Boy was named Rusty in my first grade class. The nun decided that would be his name because he was so slow. I don’t remember how I reacted. Maybe I laughed. He is always with me; I hold him close.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know. The poor, downtrodden, bullied, little ones…the starving, the spiritually bereft…they are the embodiments we must find a way to love and care for. If they aren’t God, they are certainly gifts of God…


  6. These are treasures you share, Rita. We are all in this together and your experiences with God in your life blesses ours with holy wonder as well.
    I’ve sent the link to your posts to many and I’ve read them as meditations for the spiritual care team and palliative care team at St. Pats.
    Deep thanks,
    Tom & Carol

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Tom and Carol, If anyone has embodied the deep, gentle Spirit from Whom all things flow, it is you, as a team, and a loving wonder in the world. I hope you don’t mind that I draw material from you both :)…. You may recognize yourselves along the way. Much love, Rita


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