“At
least not to me,” I say to myself, going over the printed text
again.
-God
is like a loving father ready to hold our hand whenever there is
trouble-
“Yeah
right.”
I
don’t get it, I cannot understand this. How can God be like A
father, or any human? I refuse to accept it.
BUT,
I want us to get to the part where it says God hears the prayers of
those that pray from the heart. I want to learn to say a real prayer
without mixing it with my imagination and half created stories. And I
want to tell God I know he heard my vernacular prayers, long long ago
before I could pray in English.
So
I nod and say “yes, God is like a caring father” and blah blah ,
but I’m only saying what I’ve heard people say and the photograph
on the page does paint a picture of how a father should behave..
But
I have a loud question in my mind.
Why
can’t we just say. God is wise, and clever, and kind. Like your
best friend, and always ready to pick out thorns out of your foot
like the grown up relative who wonders why you’ve been limping for
a week and decides to get you out of the misery.
If
it said, -think of a nice person, now that is how God is like- I
would get it right away.
But
here it says- He is like a father-
This
will take a while.
So
let us find this father and get a comparison. And of course the
father doesn’t want to father a grown up, and something about
having had sex with your mother a million years ago which doesn’t
qualify him for such a title that I am seeking..
God
will have to wait.
Until
the clods of blood from my internal wounds find a way out, else we’re
done for good, and I’m off to North East Germany, or somewhere..
But
I meet a girl that makes room in her wardrobe for my clothes and says
– you are welcome to stay- but I am not ready for that kind of
benevolence so I escape.
Then
an old man, not known to me a month before, he exchanges my indo-mee for
high quality bean noodles and gives me a pork recipe. And I stop
being so frightened and cold..
Soon
I am surrounded by people that don’t care that my teeth are the
color of my skin and I have an accent.
“God
is greater than our hearts and knows all things” she showed me the
text when I began to fidget.
-God
is greater than our hearts and knows all things- That is reasonable
enough.
He
knows I cannot call him father.
But
he knows I know exactly who is.
I
see him, his image in those that choose to wear it. God is like a father, true. A father that really loves his children. Not just, any father. But to me, he is:
My
friend, My God. And we are cool.
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