God Thoughts

I’ve been thinking about God lately.

I imagine a guy enamored with model trains, spending all his time in the basement painting tiny evergreen trees and rail cars carrying fake coal and those yellow and black striped crossing signs. The Big Engineer knows every detail of the goings on in Train Town. He loves the town and is sad when something breaks or when a townsperson falls off the table.

The Train Town me.

The Train Town me.

But he let’s things break, and he doesn’t always fix broken things. He even dismantles parts when he tires of them. He can make new things.

I know it’s stupid (and probably heretical) to imagine God as a model train enthusiast. Train towns aren’t alive like real towns and why would God pick such a tedious hobby?

Still, I wonder how interested God could really be in us, even our alive, sentient versions of train townspeople. Wouldn’t it be mind-numbing, watching us always standing in the same places or riding around and around on the same basic tracks?

The cat scratches at the door, so I get up and let her in from the near-freezing outside. She slinks by quickly and heads to my/her reading chair in the office. I sit back down at the computer and watch her furry middle rise and fall. When I’m home alone, just her presence does mysteriously give me comfort.

I should be more grateful. Less analytic. “Thanks, God, for the cat,” I think/pray.

I am about to go back to pondering the personage of God when I notice something. Near the cat’s tail. I follow the fluffy curve. Beyond a few inches of chair begins another curving thing…Oh. Come. On!

It’s a turd. A gross brown wrinkly dried up old man finger. Pointing at me. Like I’m the butt of a joke. There’s even a bit of fur stuck to it.

“Really? Do you think this is funny, God?”

No answer. I stare at the cat’s poo. On my chair. Like it’s a cosmic message.

What is God saying?

The phone rings. It’s a paid phone solicitor asking for money for St. Somebody Children’s Hospital. I hang up on the guy and feel instantly guilty. Would God have made a donation over the phone? Well, He wouldn’t have just hung up, that’s for sure. But God would know that paid phone solicitors take a big chunk of your donation and that it’s better to donate directly to the cause, right?

This minute, a 13-year-old girl I know is in a children’s hospital in Seattle battling cancer. I’ve seen pictures of her thinning body on the Internet, tracked her progress updates. I’ve even helped raise money for her family. But still, should I have given money over the phone? Am I a bad person?

The turd is still laying on the chair. It says nothing. Silence = I’m a bad person. Stupid poop!

I feel bad. I wonder if God is real.

Remember when we thought the sun and all the planets revolved around the earth? Finally we realized that the universe was hugungus and the earth is just another planet rotating around a random star.

We still imagine ourselves the center of God’s universe, though.

If God does exist, I don’t actually think God is male or female. I mean, gender is so this planet. Not that I would know. Also I wonder if a vast and limitless God really would focus all his time and attention on our boring Train Town. Around and around we go. For millenniums. God must have more going on. Earth can’t be God’s only gig.

That God could feel loneliness and hence create humans for companionship seems suspect. I don’t know. Humans are a strange choice (I mean, we can be horrible), and anyway, why isn’t God just totally blissed out all the time? Isn’t God hanging with the good angels somewhere beyond the pearly gates?

Heaven. I’m probably obsessing about God because of my friend’s recent passing. Stupid mortality. Death always prompts the what-happens-when-you-die questions. Which I hate because I fear going to hell (an abstractly horrible place) and being buried alive (which I can imagine more concretely and am, therefore, terrified of).

Speaking of buried, I can’t stop looking at that freaking cat turd and wondering why IT isn’t buried. In my backyard. Seriously, cat?

Instead there’s excrement on my chair. Judging me. And the presence of visible poop is messing with my deep thoughts, which are probably only deep if you’re like six years old. But how else do we approach incomprehensible ideas like God, except as if we are children?

Maybe the poop is a metaphor. Maybe my message for the day–direct from the Big Engineer–is, “Clean up your shit.”

Or maybe it’s just poop. Either way, I best get rid of it and get on with my life. I have regular Train Town stuff to do. Choo-choo!

P.S. I’m sorry if my wonderings are offensive–that’s not my intent. I just can’t help it. I want to understand things. I want the world to make sense.

And also I mean no disrespect to model railroad enthusiasts. It’s a perfectly good hobby.

33 thoughts on “God Thoughts

  1. Whatever about being offended–I’m certainly not–I can’t see anyone taking umbrage with your central message. Sounds to me like the core of any belief system, religious or not!

  2. You think Train Town is Tedious? Just imagine how Meticulous this world is with all of it super fine detail. We are Tedious to God. Takes a strong back to take on a hobby like People of Earth. OR so I would think.

  3. I love it, Meagan! And there’s nothing wrong with pondering about the nature of God, people, our place in God’s universe. As Henry Drummond said in a way only Spencer Tracey could: “Then why did God plague us with the capacity to think? Mr. Brady, why do you deny the one thing that sets above the other animals? What other merit have we? The elephant is larger, the horse stronger and swifter, the butterfly more beautiful, the mosquito more prolific, even the sponge is more durable. Or does a sponge think?” You have the same privilege as a sponge, Meagan! And thank God for that!

    I’m really enjoying your writing. You create colors and sounds and motion with words. The only thing I’m not sure of is how to pronounce “hugungus.” It’s the g’s – are they hard or soft, or which is which? I’m thinking the first g is soft and the second hard? I’ll ponder that while I go scoop a cat turd out of the litter box…. :). Great writing, Meagan – keep it coming!

    • Aw, thanks Andy!! I’m so happy to see a comment from you. And a quote, too!? It must be my lucky day.

      Not sure how to spell huge-ungous. Maybe that way would have been better… I was in a rush.

      Thank you, again, for reading and making conversation. Much love to you, Andy.

      Meagan

      P.S. I hope my sponge privileges are never rescinded.

  4. This is really good, I just believe that the answer to all of your questions are not in Him but are Him. We are the focal point of His love, even the angles in the Bible asked God, “what is man that you are mindful of Him.” Like…HE LOVES US, He thinks of us as much as the grains of sand on our planet. Even though I’m only 17, I’ve come to know that He is “all and in all.” Love the realness, I pray He’ll reveal Himself more and more. thanks for your writing. :)

  5. Belief is never going to explain the things that happen, it will just give you courage to live within the disasters. That’s enough for me.

    I’m just glad this story wasn’t about you sitting down before you realized the cat-doo in your chair… Talk about a disaster!

    • HA! Thanks Kevin! Yes, sitting on the poop would’ve been less than ideal. And yes, I agree that somehow belief DOES inspire courage.

      I just wish I could be more certain sometimes. In my own practical reality, blind faith doesn’t yield good result, so my instincts scream at me for believing blindly in anything, you know?

      • I know what you mean. I just posted something on my blog that kind of has to do with this, though you’re a much better writer than I. Expression within this medium is difficult but worth the effort.

        We kind of get cynical the more we mature. I totally agree that belief in the unbelievable is not based in reality at all. And faith is kind of weird like that, It seems when I need most, I believe most. Selfish I know, but the cynic is often selfish. :) My walk is in need of constant attention, even more so than a baby; like a baby born prematurely in one of those incubators. Scared in my infancy as I am, I just can’t help but feel something move within me when I give or help someone who needs more than me. There’s a lot of people who need more than me.

        And I’m not going to pretend that Christianity has some kind of monopoly on decency. Everyone should help a fellow if able, even in the smallest way, regardless of belief. But in my neonatal state, somethings warming my incubator and keeping me safe, something’s teaching me to love others; demonstrating what I’ve been shown. Call that experience, call that maturity, call that God.

        Look at that, I just blogged on your blog… Sorry, that was an unintentional earful, even if it was centered in humility. I’ll spare you next time.

  6. Unfortunately death puts us in a contemplative frame f mind and we desperately will seek answers, asking deep philosophical questions in the process. I hope you have a good friend who id grounded in their faith and can help explain what they understand to you.

    • Yes, I’m surrounded by people of faith. I grew up in church and attended Christian school. My parents are loving people. Unfortunately the answers that seem to give comfort to those around me don’t settle my own heart. Thanks for your comment, Joe.

    • Thank you, Christina, for reading and taking the time to comment. Yes, God and our place in the universe is Big, and I feel so small when I try to hold these things in my tiny human brain.

  7. Interesting concept of God Meagan, although I think you make too light of the pooh. I for one believe we should all listen to the pooh. Your cat only did to your study what we have done to the planet; and considering your thoughts at the time, it could have been a sign. Keep up the good work.

    • Jamie, yes, I had an instinct to listen to the pooh. But the pooh was being very stoic. Perhaps a reminder that I need to redouble my conservation efforts. Or pay more attention to the cat.

      Sorry…I’ll try not to be so flip. I DO actually care deeply about these issues. I just feel inept. Life is too random and uncontrollable. And sometime that seems funny to me. All the best to you and thanks for the comment!

  8. No need to be sorry Meagan, you handled the subject wonderfully, and sometimes ‘flip’ is needed, particularly on this subject which has caused so much conflict and contention for so many centuries. If God exists, he/she must have a sense of humour, otherwise why would he/she have created us. Laughter is the best medicine after all. Merry Christmas.

    PS Am posting a link to your blog on mine, hope that’s OK.

    • Agreed! How could there be a God without a sense of humor? Humor is one of the godliest of human attributes, I think. Wishing you much laughter and joy this holiday. I’m glad we’re all still here. And yes, thanks for posting a link to my blog. Best in 2013, Jamie.
      Meagan

  9. Pingback: Year One | Hot Pink Underwear

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