does God really share Godself?
are we made participants in the divine Nature?
there was that one time
on my knees
using the seat of the chair as my coloring table
next to my childhood crush Sarah, I filled in Jonah’s sandals with a brown Crayon
all the while my father, the pastor, worked the line of god seekers
slaying them with the Spirit
it was quite a show.
sensing the ever present apprehension, which was also at war within my 8-year-old body, he refreshed the altar call
“Anyone else?”
anyone else what?
want to be prayed for?
encounter the same Force that ionizes atoms and makes synaptic connections?
anyone else want healing? that feeling? to be sent reeling?
i swore God was asking me.
before I could finish crawling over the nylon legs blocking the aisle I was in tears.
my father, more confused than my own heart, asked, “what do you want son?”
“What everyone else got.”
life will give you plenty of reasons to doubt it happened
i’ve been suffering these since the day I danced with God
20 Connecticut children
Albert Schweitzer’s historical Jesus
ABC News, Hill Street Blues, and a preacher on the old time gospel hour
but, I think I got it.