I talked to god today.
I was looking out the window - full of agitation -- and I said, "dag god, you keep taking care of me. why?
every time everything is falling apart and it just isn't going to stretch to meet this time I find an extra piece to tack on there...dusty with with pocket lint... just in the nick of time...I owe you for that right? saving my life? that can't be free - right?"
I'm thinking, with fear, that doesn't this mean I'm supposed to do something, some more, at sometime? If I don't -- will you stop caring for me, if I don't see that hidden turnoff and do whatever obscure job I'm arrogant enough to think I am supposed to do for you -- what will happen to me?
So when my gramps said put it in God's hands she really meant it...cuz obviously I can't do this alone? Forever the toddler waiting for you to take my hand and lead me because without you who knows where I'll go stumbling off to...
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