I met you, then I spent the day getting far away from you, and away from everything like you, and I got away from your god; nevertheless, at the end of that day, I felt death defile me.
But it didn’t, because your god isn’t God. Your god is dead just like you. Your god is you.
I met someone else, before I met you. I spent that day very still, not sure of anything; and at the end of that day a new day began.
This someone else, with unyielding grace, unreasonable forgiveness cast an impenetrable confusion. Their God is unbearable, momentous. Their God is very good.
But you–I saw you walking toward me, that one day. I didn’t die. I didn’t give up. I was ready for you, cause someone else loved me. The real God prepared me; let’s not ever take you, or your little god, seriously.
You, narcissist, will be forgotten. Or maybe our good, great God will forgive and love you, also.
This is the way God put it: They found grace out in the desert, these people who survived the killing. Israel, out looking for a place to rest, met God out looking for them! God told them, “I’ve never quit loving you and never will. Expect love, love, and more love! And so now I’ll start over with you and build you up again, dear virgin Israel. You’ll resume your singing, grabbing tambourines and joining the dance. You’ll go back to your old work of planting vineyards on the Samaritan hillsides, And sit back and enjoy the fruit—oh, how you’ll enjoy those harvests! The time’s coming when watchmen will call out from the hilltops of Ephraim: ‘On your feet! Let’s go to Zion, go to meet our God!’