No Ice Cream for God
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Im taking a nap on the sofa. Wyatt, my dog, is curled up behind my knees, napping with me.
The doorbell rings. Wyatt leaps into action, bouncing off of me on the way to the front door and barking like a junk yard dog. What a way to ruin a perfectly good nap.
Wyatt, hush, I say sternly, as I shuffle towards the door.
Wyatt seems to think I said Come on, you can do better than that, bark louder, really put some feeling into it, because that is what he does. I grab his collar with one hand and open the door with the other.
Theres a big bear of a man standing on my doorstep. Theres a bright red pickup at the curb. There are two surfboards in the back of the truck.
The visitor walks right in. Wyatt stops barking and transforms from a ferocious guard dog to an obsequious and submissive puppy. Hes practically groveling.
Just about now I get a good look at the object of Wyatts adoration.
Its God.
Right here in my living room.
This isnt God in some kind of disguise; like in stories where God shows up in other peoples lives. Hes not a homeless person seeking charity, hes not an ugly old crone testing my perception of beauty, hes not some abstract and unasked for life lesson here to teach me a thing or two. Its God in all his glory. Dont ask me to describe him, because I cant do him justice. And the light and the colors and the sounds that swirl around him dont have names; or at least not names that I know. Lets just say that when I realized who it was I said Mother of God! followed by Sweet Jesus! and a Holy S**t! thrown in for good measure.
It turns out God has a sense of humor, or maybe hes just very forgiving. I was not struck down by lighting.
How have you been? he asks, wrapping his arms around me in the biggest bear hug ever. God is a very good hugger.
Uhfinegreathow about yourself? I cant believe I just asked God such a stupid question. I feel like a total moron. God is in my living room.
Well, I should probably be working out more, and Ive got to slow down on the ice cream, he says, patting his ample belly. But I just tell myself every morning that todays a new day, you know what I mean? He laughs and the walls begin to vibrate.
God looks around the living room and smiles. I love what youre doing with this place.”
I look around and think, this place is a mess. Half a dozen shoes piled by the door, a chewed up rawhide bone, one dirty sock, unopened mail spilling off the coffee table, and a skateboard in the middle of the floor.
You know when a friend shows up unexpectedly, and you havent bothered to clean the house in a while, and you start making excuses for the mess; like claiming that youve been out of town, or youve had the flu all week, or burglars broke in this morning and ransacked the place? Well, maybe you dont do that; maybe thats just me. Im about to start making excuses when God walks into the kitchen, opens the freezer door and says, Have you got any Ben and Jerrys?
Ah, no, I finished that off last night, I say, feeling guilty for all sorts of reasons. Im a pig and now theres no ice cream for God.
Oh, yes, I remember. Cherry Garcia. That was so delicious, God says. Anyway, we dont have much time. We have to get to the Big Island while the surf is still up.
What? I ask.
Were going surfing. Youve always wanted to do that, havent you? First though, it seems you have a couple of questions for me that have been rattling around in your head. Lets see now
God reaches into his pocket and pulls out an extraordinarily long scroll of papyrus. For the first time I notice that God is wearing a very loud Hawaiian shirt. When I say loud, I mean its actually making sounds - crashing waves and ukuleles.
Mmmm he says, scanning the list. Ok, lets do an easy one. What would be a good prayer for times of difficulty? Let me ask you a question first. What do you mean by times of difficulty?
Well, it could be a small irritation like my son and his friends having band practice in the basement when Im in the middle of something important. I wish I could stay calm and peaceful even when my house is noisy.
You could ask them to stop.
But I dont want them to stop. I just want to be unperturbed.
In that case, just say Thank you.
Thats it? Just thank you?
It really works. Try it sometime. Give me a bigger problem, God says, grinning now like a clever school boy waiting for the teacher to call on him.
Ok, lets say I lose my job.
Thank you still works.
What about natural disasters?
Thank you.
War.
Thank you.
Are you serious? I ask, frowning.
That reminds me, God says, reaching out to gently touch the spot in the center of my forehead, just above my eyes. When you do that frowning thing, when youre trying to figure something out, or when you doubt me, or yourself, or others, it makes lines right here, and that keeps me out of your head. It sort of cuts through our divine connection, so to speak. Here, let me erase those for you.
And with that, he kisses me gently on the forehead. When God gets close I smell the ocean…and cocoanut scented sunscreen. Theres a slight popping sound inside my head, then a quiet hiss, almost like steam escaping. I catch a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror. I look twenty years younger. I feel lighter, happier, and more like myself.
Thats better than botox! I say.
Yes, less expensive too, says God. Listen, we have to get going, and with that he rolls up the scroll and stuffs it back in his pocket. Well go over some of the other questions on the way to the beach.
Hes halfway out the door. Wyatt is close behind him, sporting a tropical print bandana around his neck.
Ill be right there, I say.
I grab a pen and add a note to the bottom of the grocery list.
Buy more ice cream.
You never know when God is going to drop in.
To read more of Pam Driscoll’s essays on finding inspiration in everyday events, visit http://tidal-pool.blogspot.com
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