A Possibly Unconventional View of God

What follows is a mostly stream of thought image that is playing through my head.

God, who appears to be a scary and intimidating man, approaches. Scary and intimidating because He knows all. He is all. One small touch from him and your entire life changes. Every molecule in your body responds to his touch. After this encounter you will never be the same again. He changes everything with one small and simple touch.
I, on the other hand, am a weak and scared soul. I have too often misplaced my heart into the hands of beings that did not have my interest at heart. I have been used, abused, tossed around. You can see the scars all over my body. My clothes are tattered and torn up. I am weary from the warfare of life.
God faces me. He looks me into the eye, into my soul and calls my name. He simply says \”Karen\”, with a cool and level voice, filled with the compassion and sternness of any respectable father. My heart awakens. Hearts always understand the Truth when they encounter it. Even at our worst, our hearts cannot deny Truth. It wants to follow the man. It wants to become a small child following the Pied Piper to the end of the Earth. I step forward.
At this my head gives out a large screech. It recognizes the power of this man. My mind knows that once God has touched me, my thoughts will no longer have dominion over me. Without dominion over me, my mind ceases to be able to protect me with things like logic or science. It\’s rather sweet how jealous the mind can be. She doesn\’t want to see me fooled or hurt again, as I have been too many times in the past. She urges me to put up walls around my heart, lest this man be an impostor.
I look up at the man, my heart burning with desire, but my mind in total panic.
\”What do you want?\”, I ask.
\”Just you.\” God replies.
I look at him suspiciously. \”Why on earth would You want me?! You, who has the entire universe, infinite knowledge, absolute power. I\’m nothing. Don\’t you see how weary I am? Don\’t you see how soiled my clothes are? Don\’t you see my scars? You have no business here. You should go find something else that is more beautiful, more perfect, more deserving of your touch.\” My heart breaks.
Still, He persists. \”Karen. Come to me. I love you more than words. Come be with me. We will be happy.\” He is now stepping towards me with a frightening pace.
\”No!\” My mind shouts. \”Don\’t you remember what happened last time someone told you that? Don\’t you remember the last failed relationship you were in? Don\’t you remember when your mother/father/sister/brother/friend/boyfriend told you that? Look where you are now! You\’re weak and dirty and tired. Look at this logically. God can\’t possibly want you in this state. This has to be a trick. Please, please don\’t fall for it this time. I\’m begging you.\” I stumble backwards out of fear for my life, my identity.
Still, He persists. \”Karen. Come to me. I love you more than words. Come be with me. We will be happy.\” He\’s walking faster now. I am clumsily stumbling backwards. I am in a panic. What should I do? He\’s catching up to me. I can\’t run like this much longer. I keep tripping on the rocks below my feet. Why are there so many rocks anyways? They seem to always appear in my life around the time I\’m being confronted with God.
\”Go away!\” I shout, \”I don\’t want you here. Can\’t you see I have nothing to offer you? There\’s nothing here to gain. My once perfect soul has been tarnished. You\’re too late. The world has taken it\’s toll on me already. Go away!\” I\’m getting desperate now.
\”Karen. Come to me. I love you more than words. Come be with me. We will be happy.\” He repeats again and again.
\”Leave me alone!\” I scream with terror. In the midst of my fear, barely even thinking, I reach down and pick up a bunch of the dirt around me. This is the dirt from the earth. This is the dirt that is so grounded in the world, it has trouble even recognizing the person who created it. This is the dirt of my sin, of my shame, of my guilt, of my anger, of my fear, of my pride. The list goes on and on. There are millions of grains of this dirt in my life.
\”Karen. What are you doing with all that stuff? You don\’t need it and I know you don\’t really want it. You should put it down and come to me. I love you more than words. Come be with me. We will be happy.\”
\”Liar!\” I exclaim, and I feel a sudden urge of courage. \”This dirt isn\’t for me. It\’s for you. Get away from me!\” I throw this dirt of my imperfection right at God\’s face. \”If you want me so badly, then fine take it! This is who I am. I hope you\’re happy.\” The dirt lands right on his face. It\’s in his eyes, his mouth, his hair. Yet, he still comes forward, like a broken record.
\”Karen. Come to me. I love you more than words. Come be with me. We will be happy.\” He spits out the dirt and wipes off His face and continues on His journey towards me.
I\’m really panicked now. I grab more dirt and throw it frantically towards Him and again He wipes it off and spits it out. Over and over again. The more dirt I throw, the more insistent He is on coming towards me.\”
\”Karen. Is that all you have? How minuscule your dirt is in comparison to your beauty. I can do this all day. I can do this everyday. I can do this for all eternity.\” He says wiping His face for the millionth time. \”Give me everything you\’ve got. I\’m stronger than the dirt you throw at me. But if you insist on throwing it, I will take it over and over again. If this is what you need to do, I will wait for you to finish and when you do I will be just as determined as the moment I first laid eyes on you. You, Karen, are the object of my affection. I want nothing else in this whole universe more than I want you in this moment and you can throw all the dirt in the world, but it will never ever change that Truth.\”
\”Liar!\” I shriek. \”You don\’t think I\’ve heard that one before? I\’ve worn down so many people before you with this dirt. Many people have tried to win me, but the more dirt I throw, the more tired they get. They\’ve all left. They\’ve all left me broken. I don\’t trust you. I don\’t even trust my own judgement anymore.\”
\”Karen. Bring it on.\”
I throw dirt wildly and violently at him over and over and over again. I do it without even thinking about it anymore. I\’m throwing with so much anger, so much fear. My face is flushed from passion. My hair is wildly knotted. My cheeks are stained from my tears of frustration. I am giving God everything that I have to keep him from touching me. When I run out of dirt, I create new dirt out of my defiance. I am like a wild animal who has forgotten all forms of appropriate behavior. I\’m just throwing so much dirt I can\’t even think straight. I don\’t even remember what my heart sounds like anymore. I haven\’t heard her in a while.
Still God keeps spitting out my dirt and challenging to me to throw more. \”If it\’s a test you want to give, I\’m more than happy to take it.\” God sings out. \”I will absolutely not leave you. No amount of dirt will keep me from pursuing you. Try again and again my love. You have no idea how deep my love for you is.\”
After days or months or years of this battle with millions of handfuls of dirt thrown, I become tired and weary. My arm simply cannot throw anymore. My tears have dried up. I am becoming deliriously tired. Like a small child throwing a temper tantrum, I am completely spent. I can barely open my eyes. This God will stop at nothing to get to me. I have put up a valiant effort, but it is to no avail. He is stronger than my dirt and ultimately, he is stronger than my will. I pass out into a heap on the ground. I have given my all to protect myself. I can do nothing else. God never once falters.

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