I heard a voice today.
I asked God the most difficult question I’ve ever asked him.
“Who am I?”
I can’t even relate to you how much strength it took me to get those words out. And when I did, the answer wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
“You’re my child, and I love you so much.”
“Yeah, I know that. Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“You’re my child, and I love you so much.”
I grew a little frustrated, so I asked again, “No, God, who am I?”
And again, “You’re my child, and I love you so much.”
And then it hit me. I really don’t know what it means to be loved.
By God.
By my friends.
Or by myself.
After a shower this morning I looked at myself in the mirror and again I heard God speaking. “Do you like what you see? Because I do.”
“No.”
“Really? Because I made you. Nate, you may think that’s some kind of warped humility, but in reality, that’s as selfish and proud as the people who love themselves a bit too much. Because you’re saying that you have the right to have an opinion about yourself. You don’t. Only I do. And I like what I see because I made what I see, and I spent time shaping your life and drafting every moment of your so-called insignificant existence.”
And I paused, angrier with God than I can ever remember being.
And as if to rub it in even more, very faintly (and I don’t know if this was just my mind’s residual thoughts or if he was still speaking) I heard, “And if that’s not enough, I died for what you see in the mirror.”
(click the pic!)