Let me first start off by saying if you don’t believe there is a God you’re dead wrong (oh, so you’re gonna stop reading now?). And if you believe that he exists but just choose not to serve him because life feels much easier if you just go with the flow of it, you’re even more dead wrong (you made it this far—keep going). And if you believe there is a supreme entity and haven’t acted on that belief because “How can I choose to serve a God when there are a million of them out there. How do I know which one?” you’re insulting the Mighty One and you too are dead wrong. The truth of the One is evident in everything. Really I’d like to call you a fool though. But I won’t because that’s not my style. And anyways, I probably should refer to myself as a fool—considering the likes of me.
I think it serves me right to call myself that because, you see, God’s had to prove himself to me only too many times...
It wasn’t long after my mere conception that I was introduced to him, I guess you could say. And in the comfy confines of my mother’s tummy I heard the Word probably most every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday that the doors of Bethlehem Church of God Holiness on M.L.K. street were open.
So me and God go way back.
I first knew he was “for real” real around the age of—oh, I don’t know. It was during my middle school years or perhaps right before them, I think. And well, one Sunday morning I was all ready, dressed for church and lingering about outside the premises of my home in the cutie pie of a blue dress my mother had picked out for me to wear.
Now no one else was ready so I just HAD to find something else to do besides sit neatly waiting doing nothing in the house. So there I was standing outside on our front porch, my mothers car key in hand, when a little whisper of inquiry suddenly tickled inside my heart upon taking in all that was before me.
I looked at the bright green banana tree in our front yard with its giant, umbrella-like leaves. It was beautiful. No bananas had ever come to fruition from it but I could gaze at it for days, the green was so pure and that healthy. I looked up at the brilliant baby blue of the sky and the fat, silvery-white clouds suspended in it and hanging so low I fancied I could actually touch one if I wanted. The sky was absolutely gorgeous. And the sun—the sun sat just behind the clouds so as to produce a soothing warmth of relief unlike the sweltering heat of the day before it. My ears perked up in attention as I began listening to the calls of nature. The rhythmic chirps of birds I didn’t know the names for and the Wood Pecker’s persistent peck aligned beautifully with the ruffling sounds made by squirrels chasing about in a nearby tree. And morning banter amongst the neighborhood dogs added to the symphony.
I was in my own little wonderland that had been suspended from the elements of nature. This was not unusual, as I had come to visit this state of mind quite often that summer, without notice it sometimes seemed, until the admiration would suddenly softly fade, pushing me back into my existence.
And so, it was the taking in of all this beauty that lit the fire in my mind to have the sort of inquiry that I did. I said aloud, “God, this earth is too beautiful not to have had a creator. You’ve GOT to be real. But, oh, what if you aren’t! Are you???” I then jumped down to the walkway of our house from the porch, purposed towards my mothers van to wait for the others and still holding on to the newness of the previous. Is God really real? How can I know?? I WANT to know! I know! I’ll test him—ask him for a sign, that’s it! And as I sat in the passenger’s seat of the van with the door ajar I suddenly knew what the test would be. Far to the other end of the yard—perhaps the distance was about 25 meters—a Bumble Bee buzzed violently around the banana tree’s giant leaves. “God,” I said, “If you’re really real, then why don’t you just let that ol’ bumble come right on over here and try to sting me!”
Now listen good. I kid you NOT, that hateful bee purposed towards me just as purposeful as did the giant fish God sent to swallow Jonah! The words I had so cleverly spoken just a moment before hadn’t any more time to become a lingering in the air than a dead weight dropped to the ground. I hurriedly lifted my legs inside and slammed the car door watching from safety’s arms as the bee buzzed frantically around the passenger’s side mirror. He’s a big ol’ mean sucker of a Bumble Bee, I observed from the newly close range between us. I sat gratefully inside the car watching its malevolence for the next minute or so as my chest heaved from the scare upon which I’d just escaped. I’d never been stung by a bee before and certainly the truth it nearly just happened was a sting in itself.
“I’m sorry God,” I said remorsefully. “I shouldn’t have tested you.” And then as if on command, the menacing bee flew away.
“Well,” I thought, as I sat back in the seat relieved, “It looks like I made a BIGGG mistake.”
Now listen. This wasn’t the first time I tested God. I’ve got plenty more stories to tell but I’m afraid if I do, this particular blog entry here will gain an insert into the Guiness Book of World Records as “Longest Blog Entry Ever.” And I’m not trying to become a Lyndsey Lohan here. She’s a great actress and everything, but Hollywood’s not sucking ME in only to spit me right back out! All you Lyndsey Lohan’s out there can have the fab life. When the timings right, you’ll get your stories. :)
Now, as I was saying somewhere near the beginning of this blog entry, “…God’s had to prove himself to me only too many times...” and the above story is THE very first encounter I can remember having with God where he was made real to me. And you know, it’s because of the times in my life like these that I call myself a fool in the present.
You see, I doubt God. All the time. I get upset with him when he doesn’t answer my prayer because it lacks similitude with his will. I think to him, why couldn’t you just do this or why couldn’t you just do that. I say to him, “You see how much I’m suffering. Why can’t you just heal me??” And then I stop serving him because I feel betrayed by him. He tricked me into loving him! I loved him and I believed but he didn’t help me! I even wrote a poem about all this a few months ago:
It’s called IF THE BLISS IS REAL.
I refuse to drown myself OUTSIDE of misery.
I refuse to jump into a bliss-filled world, HAPPILY.
Drowning myself outside of misery WOULD BE JUMPING IN
And I don’t wanna be happy temporarily within.
Now, If the bliss is real I’ll jump in.
I’LL JUMP IN!
But only if the bliss is real.
YOU dig?
How often do I forget that some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. I heard that on 104.7fm, The Fish, while I was driving one night. I never forgot the words.
And how often do I forget to contrast God’s unanswered prayers with the miracles he HAS done for me. I’d rather ponder that God’s existence is a falsehood because I can’t have my way rather than chalk up the reality HE knows what’s best for me, and then move on to continuing along the narrow path he wants me to take. And THAT is what makes me a fool.
As I’ve stated before, “Yeah, I think it serves me right to call myself that.”
Don’t you?
It wasn’t long after my mere conception that I was introduced to him, I guess you could say. And in the comfy confines of my mother’s tummy I heard the Word probably most every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday that the doors of Bethlehem Church of God Holiness on M.L.K. street were open.
So me and God go way back.
I first knew he was “for real” real around the age of—oh, I don’t know. It was during my middle school years or perhaps right before them, I think. And well, one Sunday morning I was all ready, dressed for church and lingering about outside the premises of my home in the cutie pie of a blue dress my mother had picked out for me to wear.
Now no one else was ready so I just HAD to find something else to do besides sit neatly waiting doing nothing in the house. So there I was standing outside on our front porch, my mothers car key in hand, when a little whisper of inquiry suddenly tickled inside my heart upon taking in all that was before me.
I looked at the bright green banana tree in our front yard with its giant, umbrella-like leaves. It was beautiful. No bananas had ever come to fruition from it but I could gaze at it for days, the green was so pure and that healthy. I looked up at the brilliant baby blue of the sky and the fat, silvery-white clouds suspended in it and hanging so low I fancied I could actually touch one if I wanted. The sky was absolutely gorgeous. And the sun—the sun sat just behind the clouds so as to produce a soothing warmth of relief unlike the sweltering heat of the day before it. My ears perked up in attention as I began listening to the calls of nature. The rhythmic chirps of birds I didn’t know the names for and the Wood Pecker’s persistent peck aligned beautifully with the ruffling sounds made by squirrels chasing about in a nearby tree. And morning banter amongst the neighborhood dogs added to the symphony.
I was in my own little wonderland that had been suspended from the elements of nature. This was not unusual, as I had come to visit this state of mind quite often that summer, without notice it sometimes seemed, until the admiration would suddenly softly fade, pushing me back into my existence.
And so, it was the taking in of all this beauty that lit the fire in my mind to have the sort of inquiry that I did. I said aloud, “God, this earth is too beautiful not to have had a creator. You’ve GOT to be real. But, oh, what if you aren’t! Are you???” I then jumped down to the walkway of our house from the porch, purposed towards my mothers van to wait for the others and still holding on to the newness of the previous. Is God really real? How can I know?? I WANT to know! I know! I’ll test him—ask him for a sign, that’s it! And as I sat in the passenger’s seat of the van with the door ajar I suddenly knew what the test would be. Far to the other end of the yard—perhaps the distance was about 25 meters—a Bumble Bee buzzed violently around the banana tree’s giant leaves. “God,” I said, “If you’re really real, then why don’t you just let that ol’ bumble come right on over here and try to sting me!”
Now listen good. I kid you NOT, that hateful bee purposed towards me just as purposeful as did the giant fish God sent to swallow Jonah! The words I had so cleverly spoken just a moment before hadn’t any more time to become a lingering in the air than a dead weight dropped to the ground. I hurriedly lifted my legs inside and slammed the car door watching from safety’s arms as the bee buzzed frantically around the passenger’s side mirror. He’s a big ol’ mean sucker of a Bumble Bee, I observed from the newly close range between us. I sat gratefully inside the car watching its malevolence for the next minute or so as my chest heaved from the scare upon which I’d just escaped. I’d never been stung by a bee before and certainly the truth it nearly just happened was a sting in itself.
“I’m sorry God,” I said remorsefully. “I shouldn’t have tested you.” And then as if on command, the menacing bee flew away.
“Well,” I thought, as I sat back in the seat relieved, “It looks like I made a BIGGG mistake.”
Now listen. This wasn’t the first time I tested God. I’ve got plenty more stories to tell but I’m afraid if I do, this particular blog entry here will gain an insert into the Guiness Book of World Records as “Longest Blog Entry Ever.” And I’m not trying to become a Lyndsey Lohan here. She’s a great actress and everything, but Hollywood’s not sucking ME in only to spit me right back out! All you Lyndsey Lohan’s out there can have the fab life. When the timings right, you’ll get your stories. :)
Now, as I was saying somewhere near the beginning of this blog entry, “…God’s had to prove himself to me only too many times...” and the above story is THE very first encounter I can remember having with God where he was made real to me. And you know, it’s because of the times in my life like these that I call myself a fool in the present.
You see, I doubt God. All the time. I get upset with him when he doesn’t answer my prayer because it lacks similitude with his will. I think to him, why couldn’t you just do this or why couldn’t you just do that. I say to him, “You see how much I’m suffering. Why can’t you just heal me??” And then I stop serving him because I feel betrayed by him. He tricked me into loving him! I loved him and I believed but he didn’t help me! I even wrote a poem about all this a few months ago:
It’s called IF THE BLISS IS REAL.
I refuse to drown myself OUTSIDE of misery.
I refuse to jump into a bliss-filled world, HAPPILY.
Drowning myself outside of misery WOULD BE JUMPING IN
And I don’t wanna be happy temporarily within.
Now, If the bliss is real I’ll jump in.
I’LL JUMP IN!
But only if the bliss is real.
YOU dig?
How often do I forget that some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. I heard that on 104.7fm, The Fish, while I was driving one night. I never forgot the words.
And how often do I forget to contrast God’s unanswered prayers with the miracles he HAS done for me. I’d rather ponder that God’s existence is a falsehood because I can’t have my way rather than chalk up the reality HE knows what’s best for me, and then move on to continuing along the narrow path he wants me to take. And THAT is what makes me a fool.
As I’ve stated before, “Yeah, I think it serves me right to call myself that.”
Don’t you?
1 comments:
Another good entry. I don't consider you a fool though. I think that its perfectly ok to ask God for a sign. I know in the Bible a man asked for signs over and over, and God was giving them to him.
Oh and I do agree with you. The detail of everything in nature....from flowers to insects to animals
you'd have to be a fool to think that all of this design came from a simple BANG! All of this from some random combustion in the sky? lol...yea right.
Mr. A
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