God and I have always had something of an up-and-down relationship. I really like Him (or is it a Her or an It? I’ve never been quite sure) a lot. I mean A LOT. More than anything else. But still, we’ve had our struggles.
My grandmother was my very favorite relative, complete with a friendly dog and a friendly cat, closets which smelled of mothballs, and an endless supply of wonderful desserts. She went to church every Sunday and prayed, and she taught me to do the same. I picked it up pretty easy.
“God, this is Nicholas here.” (That was my name when I was a kid, Nicholas.) “God, thank you very, very much for making me captain of the cricket team. That was very nice of you. And thank you for the B grade in English. I was wondering if you could help me out with Biology, and maybe get me a B in that too? Oh and by the way, you know that girl with the blond pigtails, Molly Smithers? Well God, I’d really like to kiss her. God..? God..? Are you there, God..? Hello..?”
I was quite conscientious about my praying back then, but I was never quite sure if anyone was listening. Seemed there was a lot of static on the line, and I wasn’t quite sure if my mail was getting read, or if my phone calls were being listened to. (more…)