God

'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.'

'But,' says Man, 'The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.'

'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanished in a puff of logic.

'Oh, that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.

God Moves in a Mysterious Way
by William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

Once or twice--well, no, not a god, actually, but a responsive spider. 1. sitting on the ground with her (then)lover, Ted, in some afternoon-filtered sunshine. Late late autumn in a part of the world where winter barely arrives --the sun is still strong on on skin and clothes are still light weight. Ted is leaving soon and they are uncertain of when they will see each other again. Ted sees a tiny spider walking on the leg of his jeans. He says to the spider, »Tie me to Belle--c'mon, I'll give you a quarter.«
Immediately, like a close up slo-motion sequence from a PBS science special: the spider launches a gossamer web thread into the air, with a kind of shower of crystal almost-sparks, the thread sails across the gap between the lovers and connects at Belle's knee. The spider walks across.

An agnostic dyslexic insomniac is someone who stays awake all night wondering if there really is a dog.

I have always felt that the differences between Native American beliefs and Christianity are only in the way the Story is told. I have long believed that the Great Spirit and God are one in the same. After all, God tells us that there is only One God for all peoples, no matter what we call him.

I am not a Native American, my ancestors come from England and Germany. I was raised in a Congregational church where they taught me about God and Christ and the Holy Spirit. The Holy Trinity. As an adult, I became disenchanted with organized religion and sought a more personal relationship with Him. For many years I took Him for granted, I knew He was there because He said so. I just didn't feel any special closeness at that time. I was in church choir, and attended Sunday school. I even taught little ones for a time.

After I finished high school, I went for 2 years to Junior College and then I worked in a department store for awhile. While working at the store, I the man that I marrried. He was not a Christian, he was divorced and had 5 kids. Soon, we added our own little one to the family. I used to tell the kids about Jesus. I would buy the story books and Children's Bibles to share with them. Still, the closeness wasn't really there, not that I could feel anyway. We had temporary custody of his kids for the first three years of our marriage and then his exwife came and got them.

I went to church off and on over the years. I took my daughter to Sunday School and for many years she was in the children's choir. Jim, even though he hadn't been saved, never objected to our going, but as the years went by, we drifted away from church. The final straw was when, after my husband died, we sought counselling through the pastor for my daughter and he told her that I didn't need the additional expense of professional help to guide her through her grief. (She was only 13 years old) He told her to just give her pain to the Lord and she would be fine.

It was in 1976, when Jim became ill with Cancer. By this time, we had been blessed with three children of our own. Tracy, a son, in 1969, and John,in 1974. He was a man with many flaws, but he loved his children with passion. He was good to the kids (and to me) but alcohol was his personal demon. He was never physicall abusive but the alcohol gave him a mean mouth at times and he could be very argumentative.

In November of '76, he had his first bout with the cancer. He was rushed to the hospital via ambulance. This was when I had my first encounter with an angel (I'm sure that is who he was). Everyone was asking me how I was getting to the hospital, I replied that I would drive there. A man stepped out from behind our friend and said: »No, I am here to take you there.« He put me in his car, drove me to the hospital, and stayed until my mother-in-law got there. Then he dissapeared, no one saw him leave and no one saw him again. No one knew who he was.

Jim was in and out of the hospital for the next month, he was in terrible pain the whole time. Our neighbor, a lay pastor from a Christian Reformed church, tried many times to see him. Jim always refused him. On December 18 or 19, Mr. Buikema was preparing for his evening services when he heard a voice tell him to go to Jim, that he would be ready to see him. (Mr. B told me this later) All of Jim's family was gathered at the hospital when Mr. B arrived. We were all concerned about Jim's reaction to his presence, so I took the doctor aside and asked him to go in the room with Mr. B. Normally, he wouldn't do that, he said, but because he'd known me since I was a child, he would. When we came out of the room across from Jim's, Mr. B. was already coming out of his room. His family was in tears, and his brother, who didn't believe in anything, reached out, shook Mr. B's hand, and through his tears thanked him for what he had done. Mr. B motioned for me to go on in and said he would see me at home later. I went in the room, Jim was resting comfortably for the first time. There was such a look of peace on his face. Mr. B. told me later, that Jim had become as a child, they prayed together, and Jim asked for forgiveness and accepted Jesus into his heart.

The next day, Monday, the doctor said that Jim might not make it through Christmas. I went and prayed. I asked that He take Jim Home that night and to please take the pain away first. That day, Jim refused any thing to eat or drink and later, that night, he shed his pajamas and would not put them back on. He then went to sleep for awhile. I also went to sleep (they had brought a roll away bed in for me). Jim's sister stayed there with me that night.

I slept for 2 or 3 hours when I was awakened by a male voice calling my name. Jim was the only man in the room, and he was to weak to even whisper, let alone call out. I feel, in my heart, that it was the voice of the one who brought me to the hospital that day, the same voice, perhaps that told Mr. B. that Jim was ready. When I went to his bedside, I could see that the pain was gone, his breathing was somewhat labored, and the end was near. Jim died that morning, December 21, 1976, quietly, free from pain and full of the Love of Jesus. I know that I will see him again.

I know that this is a very long letter, but I wanted to share just ONE of the miracles the Lord has given to my family. There are two more major ones that He has blessed this family with. Some day I would like to share those with you too. I look back and see so many things that He has done to Bless my life with and I am in awe. HE REALLY DOES LOVE ME !

Love and Peace, Your sister in Christ, Barb

Aged three, I was spotted with my mouth open as my revered five-year old cousin (just back from Scripture class in kindergarten) told me in lordly fashion »God is everywhere, you know, he is even in that wheelbarrow...«. No doubt the reason why one is nearer God's heart (and backside, sitting in that wheelbarrow) in a garden than anywhere else on earth.

I am God. You are God. My cat is God. Well, actually, 'God' isn't really the word I'm searching for. Let's call it 'anima mundi' – world soul.

It does no good to try to reason with someone whose first line of argument is that reason doesn't count.

God sends Death

On your back look on to me
You'll see genocide
Face from death more than insane
Profane pleading cries
Watch you die inside watch you die

God send death end misery
Preach no love of ministry
Pray for sin a shattered faith
Down on your knees
Your screaming out to die

Death is over due
Nothing can save you
A morbid symphony
Hearing you lie there screaming
Taking life from you
Is all I wanna do
Desire so deranged
This is what lives inside me

Putrid blood flows through my veins
To thrive on demise
Voyeurs' lust watching the pain
Touching you inside
Bleed you fucking dry
Bleed on me

Death's design blood splattered wall
Face melting one vicious whore
Twisted figures flesh from bone
Down on your knees
Your screaming out
To die

Death is overdue
Nothing can save you
A morbid symphony
Hearing you lie there screaming
Taking life from you
Is all I wanna do
Desire so deranged
This is what lives inside me

Clawing at the eyes of god
You taste your death in hand
Your fingers bleed in vain
Your scream-in your grave
Clawing at the eyes of god
You pierce your throat and hands
You've gone insane with pain
Your blind screaming for your god
Pathetic god

Death's design blood splattered wall
Face melting one vicious whore
Twisted figures
Drown your mind in pain

Is it significant that a back-to-front dog becomes God, while a slightly more contorted cat becomes act (probably with a small 'a')?? Must have a word with Sirius (which reminds me, on behalf of all cats, why is there no cat-star?)