Confession

 

They say that the end of the year is a time to take stock of your life, and maybe that is so, but for me the end of this year is a time for a confession. So, I have a confession to make.

I do not believe God exists!

Shocking, well maybe to some, and to others maybe not so much, but well they do say confession is good for the soul.

Now don’t get me wrong I do believe in the Greater Mystery that holds us one to the other. I just do not believe in the god that has been described in so many writings. A human god created in our image. That is the god we hear so much about. The one trotted out by corrupt politicians, and egomaniac and small-minded preachers who tell us that “god is with us.” That my friends is a bunch of horse-hockey.

What I have faith in is much greater than the small boxed in god of those who would have you believe they are in personal communication with god. Those people are deluded fools who should be locked up behind asylums walls and cared for like the immature creatures they really are.

The Mystery I have faith in can not be described or named, for you cannot name or describe the un-nameable or the un-describable! What I have faith in is so much bigger than any god that I, you, or anyone else can create in their minds. I have no words that I can use to identify the Mystery that surrounds me, is within me, that I breathe in and out of my lungs, that explodes from my heart.

All I can say is the Mystery is there, always. The Mystery is what holds the atoms in my body together and forms the shape I am, my dogs shape, the shape of everything and every being, animal, sea, land, the universe. I do not know what that is, and I can’t begin to understand it, but I know it is there and I know it is sentient. It is what draws us together when crises happen or when celebration breaks out. It is also there when evil is done and when injustice is allowed to happen. It cannot stop any of us from doing evil to each other. It cannot stop us from doing good for each other as well. The paradox is mind blowing.

The Mystery is so much more than the image of a judge handing out punishment, or a Santa Claus giving out candy canes. The Mystery is you and I, the good and the bad, animal and vegetable and mineral. The Mystery is everything we are, we were, and what we could be for ill or good. The Mystery has no shape, no form. It has no voice except ours. It is what holds us together despite differences, it is what keeps us together even though we would kill each other.

The god created by human beings does not exist, never has and never will, except in the imagination of those who are afraid to reach out and touch the Mystery of life. To believe otherwise is idolatry, pure and simple. The ironic part of all this is when people bow down to those clay idols they are bowing down to the Mystery that holds that clay together, they just don’t know it. That my friend is very sad.

Yes, I confess to not believing in god, but I do confess to believing and have faith in so much more than a tiny representation of my own ego. There is more to life than small boxes on shelves. I prefer to hold my faith in the Greater Mystery.

Ruth Jewell, ©December 19, 2017

Thunder Storm

 

Thunderstorm Picture by NOAA
Thunderstorm Picture by NOAA

A mountain moves toward me
white and gray, filled with rain
suddenly a flash of light
one thousand one
one thousand two
one thousand three
one thousand four
one thousand five, Boom, Crash
five miles,
the storm is five miles away
the air is heavy, the first scent of ozone reaches me

Hurry gather the chickens into their coop
the normally combative rooster runs in first
with clucks and cheeps the hens settle on
their roosts and nests
the now brave rooster hurry’s me out
A flash of light
one thousand one
one thousand two
one thousand three, Boom, Crash
three miles
the storm is moving quickly
the light is fading

Run to the barn and open the gate
to the lounging area
the cows already are waiting to be let in
horses move toward the opening
one recalcitrant pony stands in the middle of the pasture
yelling at the storm, “I command you to stay away”
the wind blows his black main and tail back, the storm moves
closer . . . a flash of light, and the brave soul runs for the barn
hooves flashing, neck stretched out and ears flat
as the first big drops of rain fall on his back he darts into the barn
the other animals look at him
“Didn’t work did it”, a flash of light
one thousand one, Boom, Crash,
one mile
I climb the steps to the hay loft with the dog and cat
and throw biscuits of hay down to the animals, Flash
one thou…. Boom, Crash
the storm is on me,
too late to reach the house

I settle down into the hay loft
dog and cat curl up beside me
rain pounds the tin roof
in a symphony to put Beethoven to shame
lightening and thunder come together now
flashing light and sound through and around the barn
rain rushes and pours off the roof,
the old pine and maple trees bend and sway in the wind and water
rivulets of water run down into the pasture
making ponds and small streams
the smell of wet earth, rain, and ozone fills the troubled air

the horses and cattle mill around down below
the scent of their warm bodies drift up to me
I hear a rustle in the beams of the barn and
Pigeons and sparrows settle in to share my shelter
in a corner, far from the barn owl, who also lives here
a meadow mouse sits and nibbles a bit of grain
sharing my space in companionable silence
many call this barn home, cattle, horses, owls,
pigeons, sparrows, mice and rabbits
it is a sanctuary, a safe place
a place where all live in harmony
at least until they leave its safe walls

The loft is warm, the hay sweetly scented
Using the dog as a pillow I lay down to wait out the storm
I listen to the horses and cattle talk
the pigeons rustle and coo
slowly the rain and thunder lulls me into a place of calm
time stops and I drift into creation

Ruth Jewell ©May 4, 2013