My image of God...
This was taken from a comment I posted on Facebook and altered slightly for phrasing and has a few details added. I loved the imagery that sprung to mind when I finally stopped railing against what the ignorant, misinformed, angry masses view as God's will. I paused for the first time in a long while to consider my own image of God as well as what places, people, or events I find God present in...
All I have to say is that the image I have of God is a mothering figure. She is the one who twirls Rowan's hair in the back around her fingers when I'm not looking to give her those little curlies I love to kiss. She whispers in Dan's ear when I need to be reassured. She stands by, wringing her hands, when I'm in pain, pleading with me to understand that it will all be for a reason someday. She is the Leroy Jethro Gibbs to our NCIS, waiting at the ready for double smacks upside the head when Dan and I are snapping at each other. She summons forth the waves of warmth I feel when Dan is holding me, tucking us in for the night. Then she adjusts the light to hit his eyes just right that they sparkle and gently pads down the stairway as we begin to make love, smiling sadly, knowing that our reality can never be as pure as it is in those moments of love. She rolled her eyes at my tattoos, yet accepted the beauty in the art and came to love them as they slowly grow into my identity. She laughs wickedly when Rowan turns my own behaviors against me or outsmarts me. She is right beside me in my garden, the dirt under her fingernails matching my own. She twirls and claps her hands when I'm dancing around my room, encouraging me to delight in the way my body moves. She is holding my hand when I have something to say that might be controversial even though it comes from my heart and my head simultaneously. She acknowledges the personal truth in those moments of enlightenment. She sees my intentions and soothes me when the words don't come out right. And right now, she is urging me to study for my final midterm, dangling the reward of a fun, carefree weekend that will be all the more relaxing if I can rest assured that I did my best on this test tomorrow. LOL!
All I have to say is that the image I have of God is a mothering figure. She is the one who twirls Rowan's hair in the back around her fingers when I'm not looking to give her those little curlies I love to kiss. She whispers in Dan's ear when I need to be reassured. She stands by, wringing her hands, when I'm in pain, pleading with me to understand that it will all be for a reason someday. She is the Leroy Jethro Gibbs to our NCIS, waiting at the ready for double smacks upside the head when Dan and I are snapping at each other. She summons forth the waves of warmth I feel when Dan is holding me, tucking us in for the night. Then she adjusts the light to hit his eyes just right that they sparkle and gently pads down the stairway as we begin to make love, smiling sadly, knowing that our reality can never be as pure as it is in those moments of love. She rolled her eyes at my tattoos, yet accepted the beauty in the art and came to love them as they slowly grow into my identity. She laughs wickedly when Rowan turns my own behaviors against me or outsmarts me. She is right beside me in my garden, the dirt under her fingernails matching my own. She twirls and claps her hands when I'm dancing around my room, encouraging me to delight in the way my body moves. She is holding my hand when I have something to say that might be controversial even though it comes from my heart and my head simultaneously. She acknowledges the personal truth in those moments of enlightenment. She sees my intentions and soothes me when the words don't come out right. And right now, she is urging me to study for my final midterm, dangling the reward of a fun, carefree weekend that will be all the more relaxing if I can rest assured that I did my best on this test tomorrow. LOL!