25 March 2011

One Troposphere Shy of Enlightenment

I've got this routine I've settled into where I go out on my back porch, usually accompanied by some form of caffeine, and just talk to God. Sometimes I'm thankful, sometimes I'm angry, but it's always a sort of conversation. I'm not so spiritual to think that I'm having an active conversation, I usually just kind of lay my heart out and either ruminate on the nature of faith or ask tough questions. I always find that in the coming days I make some sort of minuscule observation that addresses my prayers and I call that an answer.

God's a great writer like that. A good narrator knows how to speak to his audience without interrupting his story.

But sometimes it's difficult to get into that mode of thought. I usually look at the sky when I'm praying. There's something about the infinite expanse of the sky that makes me feel more heard, or at least makes it easier for me to consider the infinite nature of God. That's poetic and all, but the downfall of relying on that symbolism is that when it's cloudy, it's like I have poor satellite reception. I look to the clouds and get this feeling of "Well, I guess God didn't plan to hear from me today."

And that's dumb.

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