After that short break, God came back rested, full of new ideas, in one of those rare moods where I knew I could say pretty much anything that came to mind. Over the years, I’ve liked these times a great deal. I’ve asked crazy questions or pushed God for proof of something or the other, often getting dramatic responses. Rooms filling with liquid orange. Inner voices warning me not to jump. Lightening. Severe clairvoyance. One time, the face of God went by, inches from the window of my van. He was driving a semi, loaded with cars. Thanks to the ice, all hell had broken loose on I90. God made eye contact and I knew my life had been handed back again.
Today, the topic on my mind was drag queens. A famous drag queen had made the statement that we’re all God in drag. This seems unlikely. No matter how dressed up I get, I know I’m not God, even though I’d like to be. But the other direction? In my experience, when God comes by, the drag queens sigh in envy.
“You sure look happy,” I said as an opener. God grinned and nodded. I continued. “So I’m assuming you had a good vacation.”
God acted like I’d said something very funny. He belly-laughed for a while and then said, “Vacation?”
“Yeah. Remember? Your break?”
“Oh, that,” God said. “That was all about you, chickadee. I never go anywhere.”
My defenses went up, anger flared. “Don’t call me chickadee,” I said. God can make me unbelievably mad sometimes.
“I’m not blaming you,” God said. “I totally understand your frustration. Yes, I took a break, and of course, I never left. I’m still in the Garden. You’re there with me. Your substance is mine. Mine is yours. It’s just that you have boundaries. And it turns out, I don’t. I’m God.”
I stuck my fingers in my ears, sang la-la-la-la-la, closed my eyes, and staggered out of view. From a cosmic perspective, I’m sure I looked ridiculous. A whirling dervish of denial. But as any alcoholic will happily tell you, denial is useless.
After a few minutes. God caught up and tapped me on the shoulder. She was wearing bright red heels. Her platinum blond hair was piled high, her face heavily made-up. She was oddly beautiful. Oddly safe. She wrapped me in the baby blue boa around her neck, slowed the music, and we swayed in the outrageous splendor of being together, moving exactly to the beat.
“It’s just that you have boundaries. And it turns out, I don’t. I’m God.” Well said. And, yes.
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Thanks Mitch. I think it might end up being a temporary difference :).
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Thanks Rita, you always remind me that there is so much about God that I don’t know or that I forget and then when you bring God into focus right up close, it’s like “well, of course”.
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Thanks Nadine…with God, there’s an endless supply of images, ways of seeing, sometimes shocking, sometimes comforting, always worth the adventure….
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I like this piece a lot, Rita. We need these images of God so much. And I love the paradox of vacation/didn’t go anywhere. Liked the image of you moving to the beat. Thanks.
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Thank you Joyce. Once in a while, the images freak me out, but mostly, they just provide a challenge or a smile…
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This was a bright clear wind that swept into my mind and you succeeded in putting some God in my day when I’d forgotten to.
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Thanks Sheryl. I’m not that happy with bright clear winds right now, as they’ve made a big drift in our lane which I tried unsuccessfully to drive through…had to shovel my way back home. There’s a poem and an aching back in that …
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