A Discussion with the Son of God

Son of GodOur planet recently escaped total annihilation at the hands of an angry God of the Judaic-Christian persuasion. The battle was brief and not really eventful. God was high on etherical ‘shrooms, deciding He’ll just do away with us at a later date when the trees aren’t talking to Him in hushed, menacing tones.

While God went away to sleep off His hallucinations, I found myself on a swing at the Delta Park, taking stock of my own imaginary life. As my tummy went beeyoop on the upswing, a man approached me and seated himself next to me. On the swing seat next to me, mind, not next to me on the same seat. That would be weird.

What followed was an interesting delve into the drunken mind of a homeless man intent on finding God. We discussed the hardships and challenges that life presented, and how easy death would make life worthwhile, and how one should find strength in himself to climb the high walls into the perceived gardens of Eden.

While much of the conversation I could easily put down to drunk, depressed ramblings, the man, who’s name is Calvin, did share some interesting insight such as the right to be loved, and commitment and devotion to one’s life. He spoke of the joy he experienced in his church worship, where parishioners have opened their outhouses to him offering, at the very least, a roof under which to sleep in the evenings. He indicated that, despite the hard life, he would be loved because he did not break laws. He said also that he, like me, was the son of God, a man among men.

It got me thinking, in light of my own musings that led me to drift in the park over the lunch hours, about my own level of devotion. Not to an abstract God, but to the divine within my own being. How committed am I to my own life? To what level am I facing my challenges instead of shying away from them? How much love do I allow into my heart? Where and what is my church?

Where do I find my respite and peace?

I haven’t all the answers yet. Give me a few more hours.

With a click of the Submit button, taking another sip of coffee, I place my headphones in my ears and listen to the music. “This is my church. This is where I heal my hurts…”