Talking to God

I really mostly only read two genres: Theology and Fantasy. I also love a good dystopia or something in a nice post-apocalyptic setting, but so many of those stories are subpar lately. The Hunger Games and The Maze Runner pale in comparison to some good old 1984 or Brave New World or really, any Ayn Rand. Her philosophy is terrible and will always end in devastating destruction (insert subtle, yet poignant political statement here), but at least she was willing to follow through to that end in most of her writing. And she knew how to create good characters.

I love fantasy. A lot. So much so, that ten years ago, I probably would have been mocked for it. It’s definitely become either fashionable or at least acceptable to be a nerd about dragons and wands and charms and defense against the dark arts and all that gloriously whimsical stuff, and I’m grateful. At the very least, fewer Christians are burning Harry Potter books than they used to, praise Jesus.

The following is an exact transcript of a talk I had with God this week while believing that I’d make an excellent student at Hogwarts, Ilvermorny or Brakebills University- I’d probably put Hermione to shame:

Me: Why don’t we have magic like they do in The Magicians or Harry Potter? I want to fly and be able to make something out of nothing with just a few words.

God: Something out of nothing with just a few words? That sounds familiar. What would you make?

Me: Things that I need, like money and diamonds. Cheese, and stuff like that. I don’t really know.

God: Diamonds? You don’t wear any jewelry. What’s your deal?

Me: I’d sell them for more money or use them for paperweights or something. You put me on the spot for an answer. I’ve only kind of thought about this.

God: Your priorities are completely off. Who says there isn’t magic?

Me: I do. No flying, no killing spells. I can’t turn a teacup into a rat or myself into a bat. What gives?

God: Your kind just thinks you get to define everything, don’t you? And I would never let you get your hands on a killing spell.

Me: You should totally trust me more. You did tell the first of us to name all the things didn’t you?

God: Touché, human. What do you want me to say?

Me: Say something that will let me shoot fireballs from my eyes-

God: and bolts of lightning from your

Me: Nope. That sounds painful. But way to pick up on that one.

God: I like Mel Gibson. I mean, obviously.

Me: You like everyone. Why, if you’re able to speak and make things like light and birds and bees happen, did you not let us do the same?

God: LOL. Plenty of people can talk their way into birds and bees situations. Not that I approve.

Me: Did you just LOL me? You’re supposed to be perfect. I believe that precludes you from using obnoxious slang and abbreviations.

God: If I hated all the same things as you, we’d be in trouble. And by we, I mean you and the rest of humanity. More than you’re already in. Also, if you’d studied your Greek better you’d understand there is slang in the Bible.

Me: You didn’t write that so much, did you though?

God: It’s complicated. You say there’s no such thing as magic, but who are you?

Me: Glaring. Not somebody with much authority on anything at all.

God: Good job! You could be rich and famous and good-looking and I’d ask the same question- if that makes you feel any better. Any chance that your notion of magic is ill-informed?

Me: I’m pretty sure you just called me ugly. And you’re going to ruin this for me, aren’t you?

God: Or make it so much better. How would you feel if I told you that magic isn’t something you do, but rather, something that happens to you?

Me: Severely disappointed. I hate everything you just said to me.

God: Like I’ve never heard that before. Also? That was totally quotable. Like, you should tweet it this instant.

Me: Pretty sure you’re not allowed to be sarcastic.

God: I do what I want.

Me: Of course.

God: Here’s the deal- I gave you all the things. Including an imagination to think up some things that I’d never ever, ever give you.

Me: I want to turn a rat into a teacup or to levitate a troll.

God: So impractical and weird. You turn cattle into couches and coats and burgers and bags and fly all over the place like locusts.

Me: But comparatively, that’s boring!

God: That’s your fault. I gave you good things and you made them mundane.

Me: Blah. Give us the magic.

God: Ungrateful. That’s why I gave you imaginations.

Me: So we could disappoint ourselves? That’s helpful.

God: There are so many other things to be disappointed about. Your problem now is that your desire for anything is too weak. Stoke the fire that burns for these things. Make it stronger and you’ll find what you’re looking for.

Me: Did you just read me my horoscope or was that from a fortune cookie?

God: We seriously need to work on your reverence.