From God :
In the beginning it was just me.
Everything was in order, tidy, in neat boxes.
There was no one around to mess it up.
I enjoyed looking at the order – the symmetry that I had created.
But something was missing.
The order needed someone, something,
to give it life – to love and to be loved.
I wanted to create something special –
a family, a community that could grow together,
nourish and develop each other.
Gradually I scooped together the dust that had gathered ;
breathed and created.
He was wonderful, this new being that I had made.
He breathed, laughed, cried, and above all loved.
I loved him too, with a love from the bottom of my heart.
It was a love that knew no bounds –
from endless ocean to endless ocean.
We laughed together, played together, cried together.
It seemed as though our souls were permanently entwined.
I watched him learn to walk, talk, discover plants, animals, water.
I wanted to give him everything I possibly could.
Then one day I realised –
knew that he would need others to love besides me.
I was anxious at creating something that might replace me,
but I took more dust and breathed new life into the tangled mess.
This new being was just as perfect as him –
and I loved her just as much.
Gradually I introduced him to more and more creatures that he could love.
He grasped at each one,
his little hands clawing at them and grabbing
the air as he reached out towards them.
It was supposed to be perfect.
Perfect love shared – the child echoing my own heartbeat –
part of who I was.
I watched in wonder as the child grew.
He got stronger in every way, developed, matured –
hormones kicked in!
And then things changed.
This perfect child, my own creation, started demanding things.
At first it wasn’t much
a coat like the lion ;
a warm nest like the birds.
Then it got worse.
He wanted to fly like the birds ;
swim like the whale ;
have the power of the elephant.
He always seemed to want what other animals or people had.
He didn’t stop to think about the negative sides.
Would he want to fly like the birds
if he knew he had to make 3,000 flights every day to get food for the chicks? Would he want to swim like the whale
if he had to migrate across oceans each year?
I thought perhaps if he had his own money,
he could decide himself what he wanted.
I got him a job in a vineyard
you’d think he’d be grateful, with the recession and everything.
But no, all he did was complain
that I gave other people the same wage as him.
As an employer I think I have the right
to pay people whatever I want
and he got his fair wage for the day.
So it went on – he wanted to be as clever, kind, talented as someone else – he never seemed to stop.
He didn’t think to envy the gnarled old tree
that had learned to bend with time,
and that had come to see its scars as beautiful ;
or envy the mountain that had endured for years,
and had been ravaged and shaped by wind, rain and snow.
No, he wanted everything that he thought was good about everyone else.
The thing is, deep down,
I knew the only reason he wanted all these things was because he wasn’t happy with himself.
He needed to learn to love himself for who he was
but you can’t tell them that can you?
Children will never change – they’’ll never want to listen to the voice of experience.
I tried to tell him that he had everything that he needed.
That I had blessed him in so many ways
but he just got angry with me.
He complained that it was unfair
– why should he have to work all day for food when the lion could sleep all day and get food in one go?
He used to say ‘If you really loved me we’d be able to have whatever we want’,
and ‘It’s not fair’.
How could I explain to him
that having what someone else has isn’t the answer.
That happiness comes from being content within,
and seeing my love and grace in everything
even the bad things of life.
Or that this envy if it festers inside would end up eating him from within, and destroying every ounce of love that I had created.
That the answer isn’t to look for what he hasn’t got,
but to look at the beautiful gifts that I have given
and that make him so unique in my eyes.
I knew that would take time to learn
– and time is one of those things that this impatient child of mine has yet to discover.
I got angry with him too.
He treats the world like it’s a hotel and as if it owes him something.
He doesn’t clear up after himself or take responsibility for the mess he makes – and he’s made some terrible messes.
I’m always having to clear up after him and sometimes it takes ages.
And he doesn’t even notice!
He just makes more mess.
My precious child that I created is growing up.
He is pushing the boundaries, rebelling.
He struggles with envy one minute, and anger the next.
Then tries to anaesthetize himself with noise, overwork,
shopping, activity, drink, drugs
anything that distracts from the drive to exist and to love.
I long to step in and make everything all right.
But I have to let go and leave him to make his own way.
What kind of parent would I be if I tried to dictate his every step.
Yet I am proud of him,
and delight in every step he takes
even when there are lots of mistakes along the way.
I formed him, and he is part of who I am – and nothing can change that.
I still love him from the very depths of my being.
Based on Infinite Potential by Kathy O’Loughlin
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