★ Time Spent Looking in the Mirror ★

I stare at my reflection

At rest, yet never still

And I realize

Gods don’t need worship

People do.

My eyes fixed to my brown skin

I wonder

What is a worthy life

What is a life at all

There’s an element to living that implies creation, origin;

Life begins in mothers

Soft bodies with unrelenting power

The catalyst

But if birth is so essential, then why does it hurt?

Why does it tear apart from the inside out

Extinguishing the fire of youth in one

and igniting it within another

So intense

Yet so natural

Perhaps we were built to be broken

Humanity that moves nothing, exists so finitely, and knows so little

Still feels so on top of the world

There’s a difference between being completely blind and covering your eyes. Put your hands over your face. With your eyes covered, you can sense that your abilities have been compromised. You know something is missing. Now, try to see out of your elbow. You can’t. You do not have the ability. That’s what it means to be truly blind.

If there is a God, there’s no fathoming how blind we are to the power of that entity.

We are but anthropomorphic dust sculptures with boundless self-importance, too confined to realize everything we know about God says more about us

Humans fiercely hunger for recognition, appreciation, affirmation, and glorification.

The human body wants to feel seen

The human heart wants to feel important.

These are living desires

These come with what it means to “be”

And what a beautiful thing it is to “be”

But if God is real then God must not “be”

To “be” is to exist within a space

God is a unit beyond dimension

We put the entity within our reach because it comforts us.

We call God “he”

The most widespread theology depicts the essence as a male of European descent

The funny thing is

We didn't make God a white man

We made the white man God

And then we made God our hero

Ignorantly and selfishly

we defined this entity’s worth based on our needs

A hero is a demanded sacrifice. A hero is not a leader, but a servant.

A hero’s only recompense is being called “a hero.”

And we think, by worshipping this version of ‘God,’ this reflection of humanity seen through a golden lens, we’re satisfying the ultimate creator.

I remember words of the old hymn

"I was created

To worship You

For You are lovely

And Your ways are wonderful

I was created

I was created

To worship You"

So far beyond moving mountains. So far beyond spinning galaxies.

We accuse a boundless and dimensionless creator that carries the weight of the entire universe of needing us to fulfill an egotistical desire

There is nothing of equal value we can give to our maker

Because in building us to be broken, the creator gave us something not even contained within itself:

The ability to learn

The freedom of ignorance combined with the satisfaction of discovery is the ultimate gift.

The all-encompassing feeling of community and the ability to create and recreate, passing energy and the flame of life between souls

The power held within our bodies to heal from the inside and eventually die

So fragile, so intense, so natural

Never Still.