Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Hope (05/04/06)
TITLE: How Can God Be My Friend?
By Julie Michaelson
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But, I love him, and he's been there for me - through thick (fur) and thin. The
genuine Crazy Cat Lady doesn't worry about all that other stuff, anyway.
If her human friends don't like the spray on the furniture, then, they're
obviously not true Cat People - and, well, they should be seeking some new friends.
Pumpkin, however, doesn't have any other human friends except me. So, it's
not like I have to scream, shout, or cry to get his companionship. All I have
to do, with Pumpkin, is BE - and, well, make sure his litter box is imperfectly
cleaned, and his food bowl is well-stocked.
God, however, has folks everywhere, vying for His attention. How many of
us are there, now? About 200 billion, or something?
That's a lot of complainers out there. Well, yeah, once in a while we toss in a
praise or two, but, I mean, let's face it, most of the time all we do is kvetch.
And, email Him our wish lists. (Oh? You haven't received His e-address yet?
He usually sends a new one out, at the beginning of each year.)
The idea of being a close, intimate friend with God, is somewhat alien to me.
I was brought up Jewish, and all I ever saw Him as was kind of mean,
and wrathful. The second you didn't do something He liked (for instance,
melt down all of your Home Shopping Channel jewelry into a golden gerbil), He'd
zap a bunch of plagues at you. What kind of friend does that?
By the way, I've always wondered about that golden calf incident in the
Exodus chapter. I've never understood it. How did those guys, who just
wandered out of involuntary pyramid-making for the Egyptians, happen to
have all that expensive jewelry? Maybe, the ancient Egyptians were just like
other rich folks, who, upon coming back from the Saturday gold fest, simply
tossed their old, and boring, rings and necklaces down at the Hebrews.
And, anyway, if everybody had enough real gold jewelry to melt down into a calf
statue, why didn't they just buy a bunch of camels, and ride out of the desert?
Or, better yet, with that much gold, they could have rented a few boats, and
sailed to New Jersey.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Being buddies with God. I'm sorry, guys. I really
just don't see it. It seems like all He ever does is point out all the yahoo I'm
doing wrong. What kind of friend does that?
Let's be honest. How many of you stay friends with somebody who is constantly
criticizing, testing, and throwing trials at you? Yikes!
I've also heard, in my daily struggles to know Christ, that we're supposed to confess our most worrisome (and rather numerous) thoughts. I try. I really do. But, a lot of that stuff is too embarrassing even to talk to Him about. Especially,
when some of it has to do with potential Commandent-breaking.
I usually find it easier just to tell Pumpkin about the truly difficult things. I
figure that the worst he'll do to me is yawn in my face, or, perhaps, go and
pee against the wicker sofa.
So, I guess that my journey of friendship with God has barely begun. It appears
that I trust a scruffy, ex-wayward Tom, like Pumpkin, more than I trust Him.
And, what is friendship, anyway, without trust, unconditional love, and a lot
of kibitzing back and forth?
What's kibitzing? Look it up. Hey, I've had to learn a whole horde of new
words (and plague of grasshoppers), since taking on the extremely difficult task
of becoming a Christian.
It is very difficult! I don't like having to become more and more like Him.
It's too hard. I thought all Christians had to do, was accept Him; I didn't have
a clue about this being-like-Him part.
That's another pound of gefilte-fish, isn't it? I hope that He's going to give me
some time to walk behind His shoes, for awhile. Those are very tough shoes to follow.
By now, you're saying, and rather irritably,
"So, where do all the words of HOPE come in?"
Well, because I've always HOPED that God has a wonderful sense of humor.
Because, to be honest, I wouldn't even think of being friends with Him, if
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