Not "God"
God is not he, she, or it. God does not live in heaven. God is not defined or definable. Not an idol or a statue. Not singular. God is not "God".
It is, in my view, that which makes you happy. That which brings you hope. That which dries your eyes when you cry. That which gives you courage. God is that which makes you achieve more than you were capable off. God is nothing. Cannot be anything.
To a sailor lost at sea; a light house. That is God. To a lonely person; a friend. That is God. To a hungry person; food. That is God. To a blind person; sight. That is God.
God is what completes us. Makes us happy and whole. So if you really think of it…..you come to believe; God is not "God"…..
A young man. Sick of it all. His life. Everything. Packs his bags. Stuffs it with food and drink. And leaves home.
The sun beats down. The day is hot. Who is that on the bench by the side of the road?....
An old man. Sick of it all. Being ignored. Treated as a burden. He does not pack his bags, because he has none. He leaves home. Sits down on the bench by the side of the road. Who is that walking towards his bench by the side of the road?......
Thus they meet. Boy young, and man old.
The day is hot. Very hot. The sun scorches the bench and its occupants.
Very hot.
'Would you like a drink of water?' asks the boy. The old man nods. They share the water the boy had brought.
Very hot.
'Um…..can I offer you something to eat? I have a lot…' Another nod. They share the food.
Words are not exchanged. They just sit there. Silent. And yet the presence of the other is felt and is essential to both.
Evening comes. The cool evening breeze with it. That cool evening breeze that can cool even a mind……
They return to their homes. The boy young, and the man old. Cooled by that evening breeze…..
'Where have you been?'…… 'What are you smiling about?'… 'We've been worried sick. You shouldn't run away like that.'
He only smiles some more and says, cooled by the evening breeze, 'Today I met God. On the bench by the side of the road'…….
It is, in my view, that which makes you happy. That which brings you hope. That which dries your eyes when you cry. That which gives you courage. God is that which makes you achieve more than you were capable off. God is nothing. Cannot be anything.
To a sailor lost at sea; a light house. That is God. To a lonely person; a friend. That is God. To a hungry person; food. That is God. To a blind person; sight. That is God.
God is what completes us. Makes us happy and whole. So if you really think of it…..you come to believe; God is not "God"…..
A young man. Sick of it all. His life. Everything. Packs his bags. Stuffs it with food and drink. And leaves home.
The sun beats down. The day is hot. Who is that on the bench by the side of the road?....
An old man. Sick of it all. Being ignored. Treated as a burden. He does not pack his bags, because he has none. He leaves home. Sits down on the bench by the side of the road. Who is that walking towards his bench by the side of the road?......
Thus they meet. Boy young, and man old.
The day is hot. Very hot. The sun scorches the bench and its occupants.
Very hot.
'Would you like a drink of water?' asks the boy. The old man nods. They share the water the boy had brought.
Very hot.
'Um…..can I offer you something to eat? I have a lot…' Another nod. They share the food.
Words are not exchanged. They just sit there. Silent. And yet the presence of the other is felt and is essential to both.
Evening comes. The cool evening breeze with it. That cool evening breeze that can cool even a mind……
They return to their homes. The boy young, and the man old. Cooled by that evening breeze…..
'Where have you been?'…… 'What are you smiling about?'… 'We've been worried sick. You shouldn't run away like that.'
He only smiles some more and says, cooled by the evening breeze, 'Today I met God. On the bench by the side of the road'…….
Labels: Real
posted by Muddman at 3:39 AM
2 Comments:
Utterly meaningless to me. If you go on like this, you may find yourself on a mega stage under the floodlights, with millions of cameras clicking away at the momentous scene of you receiving the Booker Prize.
at 15 [16 ha, kandu ;)], man u rock!
gud post :)
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