“Do you blame me?
Why would I ever want to blame you? I can get mad at you. I can get playful with you. I can talk like this with you. But blame you? For letting “bad things happen” … ?
A lot do.”
My journey of living included a time when God Soft Hands Jesus and I would sit together on a grassy place. A travelling fairground. Of noise and laughter, shrieks and cries. And he would point out a particular stall of doubt or faith, of humanity or inhumanity. And we would sit and look, sit and think, sit and chat.
It’s been awhile.
And now he invites me to sit in another grassy place. At the foot of the cross as his life slowly ebbs away. It’s kind of weird – but lovely.
“I thought right and wrong weren’t part of your make-up, that “love” was and is.
It was and it still is. But love has precious little to do with the way I was taught about you.”
Talking with God.
Want to tarry awhile with us … ?
So when you believed in me all those years as you were taught – we were good … right … ?
Yes and no. If you mean good as in “I believe in this and that” – yes. But if you mean good as in “right and wrong” – no.
I thought right and wrong weren’t part of your make-up, that “love” was and is.
It was and it still is. But love has precious little to do with the way I was taught about you. You are taught as a parent father figure. And we are your children. But us children are never taught to grow up. We always live in your house by your rules to your standards. We are never free. And as a father with children that is not just wrong – that is weird!
We wanted our children to grow up…
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