Although we should experience God with each footstep, there are times God is noticed more; like when ones daughter is being born. The top of her head peaked from the opening, and beyond her will, she was leaving her happy, dark, liquid cocoon and emerging into an unknown world of shapes and colors. I got dizzy. I couldn’t breathe. Although she was alive inside her mother’s womb since conception, it appeared that a new life had miraculously materialized with the sounds of her first audible wails.
Perhaps God is a distorted illusion in my tiny brain. But if this is true, I have found great purpose in my understanding of God.
God was in that room. God was the hand that skillfully wiped her body clean. God was the voice of my wife’s agony and the cries of my daughter’s bewilderment. God was my heart that throbbed in my throat. God was the invisible force that orchestrated the entire show in which I was the audience.
Without realizing how the shears got into my hands, I was asked to cut the umbilical cord. From the cosmos of the universe, a separate thinking person had been revealed. She existed in the womb, and even before, but now she lived in my world. With my sight blurred with tears, I nearly fell to my knees in a blend of confusion and wonderment.
God is not a separate entity. God is all things. Must we distinguish the wonderful fragrance of a rose from God?
God is the hand
the shears
the joy
the tears, and
the author of our play.
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By Diamond Mike Watson.
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