|
Februāris 19., 2003
![[info]](http://klab.lv/img/userinfo.gif) honeybee | 12:06 - Insight
Well, I took him up. God had given him to me in my old age, and now for reasons of his own he wanted him back—perhaps in a perverse way to restore his own humanity or to recreate himself bit by bit in man’s image. I have always speculated on such things. Sometimes when someone asks me my profession, I simply answer, “Speculator”. It’s in my blood, my genes—I’ve always pitched my tent where things change hands more than hands change things.
Yes, God didn’t forget me nor leave me alone in my small plot of the universe to follow my own course, wander where I will. Yet, I’m convinced he does get sick and ignores me now and then, but then I pay even more attention to him and so our relationship stays rather even-steven. I had other children, bastards outside of the law, and might have given one of them to God, but he had his eye on my wife’s son. So be it, I thought. My son carried his own fuel up the mountain. Better to make the sacrifice off in some obscure place so as not to anger or turn my neighbors and family against me. The ways of God are unknowable, but surely in the long run they would be to my benefit. Otherwise, why speak to me through a heavenly host, why bother. Surely not to torment me as he would later with Job. Unless we are all prefixtures and postfaces of each other, repeatedly back and forth in time.
(read the whole thing here)
autors: Kerry Shawn Keys, cilvēks, kam es jau sen sen tiku apsolījusi uztaisīt webu :)
|
Reply
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sviesta Ciba |