The Color Choices of God

2024.05.07

I don't like the word God; it lessens The Divine somehow. The expression of each metaphor changes with it in the sentence. History gets in and muddies it's up.

It removes Heaven and places prudence and politics where poetry ought to be.

To place The Creator in a prism of three letters is to do Him injustice. To give Divinity a gender is a hubris divine.

Our total experience is not The Creator's total for Itself. Gender is Heaven's tool to keep us creating new opportunities to enjoy the gift of life granted to us from whatever we believe lives in the sky and raises what we call The Sun to make each new day so we may enjoy the splendor.

God, the word, is still the best we can do linguistically. We must clean the history from it, take what helps our spirits find comfort and joy from our understanding of the utterance, and redefine our lives from what grows our lives in a way we call divine.

The word God does not mean what it could, so it does not mean what it should. To better define it is one of, if not the most, important tasks humanity has before it. A brave, humbling, march forward to clean our mistranslations of Heaven so we can truly, divinely, enjoy our days.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness it's said.

There are those habits we speak of first thing in the morning. Those tooth brushing, showering eating breakfast, dressing, undressing, combing hair, shaving, groom, groom, groom before you leave the room, habits.

What we mean is order. Chaos, though, has its own kind of simplicity.

In a Divine universe nothing can ever be chaotic. Everything has a place.

Because something, to people, seems out of control doesn't mean it's without intent and purpose.

God knows what's going on even if we don't.

Chaos is human vanity.

Let's say that in a way that begs another paragraph.

Chaos, like science, is human vanity.

We're not saying either is a bad idea, only that trust in either, complete trust in either is foolhardy.

With the sunrise up in the East again, and time with its seemed dictated-by-it's repetitive ways painting the sky blue I type this.

But the blue isn't yesterday's blue. Each hue of each thing is different than the day before. Each drop of water takes in a new hue of each shade and shine.

So here we are dressed in today's colors. Groomed in the garb of what this spin of our sphere has available in its celestial closet called The Sun. We don it and call it The Morning. We place numbers and words on it and call it a specific day.

Each date is an outfit chose by Our Creator, and God dresses for success.

God's habits are the way of all things, the moral wave that makes the waves. Human vanity, should it step back and see itself with humility, will know itself to be our best song to best sing The Divine at the time of the performance. Time is nothing but our record of the color choices of God.

S.J. Wynn
+he Ghos+