1 In the Beginning God

198 2 0
  • Dedicated to Desarae Shrum
                                    

I depend on them for a lot of things.

For example what I look like.  You tell me I look like you.  They don’t ever say, except once in a great while they tell me I am good looking, short, and have hair like Einstein when I need a haircut.  Did you know you look like that?

It’s not true you know.  That is just what this body I am in at the present looks like.  I look just like you, God the Creator.

I am not short, good looking, and I do not have hair like Einstein, any more than I look like that poor fellow I see in the mirror.  I am kind.  I am outgoing.  I am sometimes funny.  And I like people.  There are lots of things I share in the way you look just like me.  There are others where I have been corrupted or have corrupted my own looks and added them to what you made me to look like.  But, mostly I am fascinated with myself because, if I am like you in any way I want to know it.

Today I went downstairs and I was sitting in a chair talking to someone when a friend said, “John you are here,” and called me by my full name. 

And quite honestly I said, “Where?  Where is that guy?  I never get to see him.  Is he around again?  He goes everywhere I do but I never get to see him.  Everyone else does, but I don’t.  Even when I look in the mirror all I see is my own body.  I never get to see him there either.”

Everyone reacted like I had gone crazy.  To be honest it embarrassed me, because even though I did it in fun there is a part of me that really wants to know.  And there is an even bigger part of me that doesn’t know.  With all the evidence I have gathered about myself, and therefore you to some extent, you would think I knew you and that I knew myself. 

Hey!  That is really cool.  I do know you.

You are not just the owner of some voice that says things to me, even when I have no idea what you look like or whether you have a body, or even whether you are just a voice I imagine hearing and not real in any other way.  You are real.  Sort of like people I have never met and yet I know they exist because there is evidence you and they exist.  I can get to know them somewhat on the web and the like and we can interact.  I can even sense when they are around, but I have never heard their voices for real if at all, just like yours. 

I can sense that you are aware of me, just like now.  It is a little eerie here because it is so quiet and everyone who can hear you knows what you just said, though it was not anything they could hear with their ears, or even sense with all of their senses; still we all knew it was you, and we all stopped what we were doing, saying, or thinking and paid you our full attention.  They do that to me sometimes when I write things like this.  It is really cool.  It’s like they agree, I am like you, and you are like me.  And you are like them to some extent, and they are like you.  I suppose that at one time before he became totally corrupt even Satan was like you when he reflected so much of your light.

I can only imagine what it was like when you created this place for our bodies and the rest of the physical realm  for us to wear these things, these costumes really that allow us to be what we are inside and mask what we don’t want others to know to some extent.  It didn’t exist at all.  It wasn’t even like this thing I am writing now.  It hadn’t occurred to you to make it, and you had not started any part of it yet.  Then we all saw you and it was very, very quiet for we knew you were there, and you knew we were there and you also knew we wanted to know, who and what we were, just like we wanted to know who and what you were.  But it wasn’t awkward exactly.  We were just waiting for you to say, or do something that would communicate it all to us, and allow you to interact with us in a way you never had before.

And, we looked about us and we understood.  All of us understood.  Every single one of us understood everything.  And it was like an incredible illumination.  You spoke and you spoke, and you are still speaking.  It’s like you said nothing and it meant that everything possible was just waiting to be revealed to us, just like your silence was the forerunner of every sound that was ever made, and they didn’t exist separately but both at once.  It was like heaven and earth were all one, everywhere in the physical realm was, and every place in the spiritual realm that knew it, was also.  Even the least of the spiritual comprised the physical, but the physical was merely an image, an expression of who and what the spiritual was.  That is the way you made it. 

But for you no place was found.  It was like it was for me, trying to see who and what I was in the community room today.  It was like we all said, “God you are here!” but the full extent of whom and what you are; that only you can know.  We tell you constantly who and what that is in the same sense a mirror does.  Our understanding turns to our understanding of you to explain who we are.  You turn to us and say you are not us.  I do not think like you.  I do not talk like you.  And, I do not therefore do what you do.  And I understand that if I did I would know who and what I am, and not you at all.  Who wants to know what the reflection of someone else looks like when the real person is standing before them.  It is awesome knowing you God.

In the Beginning GodWhere stories live. Discover now