God and I had been on one date before.

It was an eye-opening experience in which I learned that God moves through all objects of nature. Even the leaves that rustle in the trees with the wind are a part of God's hand.

I used to look at nature and see God. 

That was before my husband passed away.

He passed a few years ago and after that, I shied away from society. 

I went out only when it was absolute necessity as I could not bear to see couples together for I had lost my one partner in this life.

I could not even find peace in nature.

I resented God for taking him away for me...

It was about a month ago that I decided to attend a marriage conference that was intended for couples.

I felt it was something I had to do if anything was ever going to change in my life. 

I braved myself to be alone in a room full of pairs.

That night God and I had our second date in my hotel room.

After room service had delivered my meal, I slept for a while on the couch.

I awoke suddenly and gazed out of my window just to catch the last of a magnificently

beautiful sunset. Some stars and the moon were beginning to shine in the still blue and pink sky and the moon was reflected in the totally calm, blue and pink river.

I believe God was sending me a message to remind me that he loved me. 

I resolved that the moon's reflection in the water was a part of His signature.

I realized that God had never disappeared all those years. 

He was simply waiting for me to find him again.

It is often in our suffering that God awakens a strong desire in us for nothing more than Himself. 

I plan on attending more dates with God. 

“Let me get this straight, you want me to... suck your dick?”

"Not in so many words, but yes” God leans back, casually stretching his arms above his head. His white robe billows about him gently in the breeze.  We’re sitting together on a white park bench. In the distance I can see children running around a brightly colored playground. Birds chip in the trees overhead as glittering rays of sunlight stream through the foliage.  "Consider it... a test of faith."

“What does the Messiah's manhood look like anyhow?”

“What do you think it looks like?” God muses, prophetically.

“Like a big shiny golden dildo?” I shrug “Maybe some halos around it for good measure? And miracles shoot out the tip-- to give sight to the blind or cure polio. Or maybe God’s immaculate-ejaculate cripples you?”

God laughs. It’s a hearty sound like Santa Claus and every TV sitcom father rolled into one. “Really? I’m the same guy who dreamed up platypuses, aardvarks, and elephants… I made you in my image, and you think my divine-ding-dong is some gaudy sex toy?”

“Haha, gaudy. God-y.”

God chuckles “You always did like puns.”

“That’s the thing, you’re all knowing and all seeing. You already know if I’m going to do it or not."

“I suppose” God shrugs nonchalantly.  

“So why even bother with this conversation?”

“You watched Titanic seven times in theaters.” He scratches his beard absently.

I sit there in silence. Sometimes it’s easy to forget He knows all things.

“Yeah so?”

“You already knew the ending. That doesn’t keep it from being a good movie.” He elbows me playfully. “And how does it end?”

“Jack drowns.”

“No before that. “

“Jack draws some boobies.”

“After that.”

I sigh. “The ship goes down.”

“Bazzzing son!” God makes some finger guns and points them in my direction playfully, a wide grin plastered across his face.   

“That’s another thing. If we’re all your children, y’know lambs and such isn’t it incest to suck-off my savior?”

“Sure, you’re one of my creations. But you’re not my son” Got makes mock stigmata on his wrists, and then extends his arms out from him at his sides like a man on a cross. “You guys nailed my one-and-only to the wall, remember?”

I look down, dejected for a moment.  God puts his cross-bearing-arm around me. It’s warm and comforting. God continues: “You’re more like, if I made a crude drawing and then jerked off to it.” He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I still remember that by the way. You were one horny thirteen year old. Beating off to boxy boobs and triangle shaped vagainas. You’re definitely no Jack Dawson.” He’s rubbing both my shoulders now. His grip is so strong. I can feel his warm breath on my neck. It’s intoxicating, smelling like peanut butter and cinnamon.

“But isn’t it wrong?”

God smiles. “I impregnate virgin girls without their knowledge or consent.  I make fathers set their kids on fire.  I kill a bunch of innocent little babies because some people didn’t decorate their doorways the way I wanted. I drown half the planet, and give you guys a little rainbow at the end to say ‘oops sorry, my bad’... "

The will of God is strong. His hands are at my neck. Pushing and prodding my head at a slow sinking angle, like the Titanic going down, down. down.

“Heck the first guy I made… he wanted a girlfriend. And I could’ve easily made him a brand new person; I literally just made him out of nothingness five seconds earlier.  But instead, I made him give up his rib, just so he can fuck his rib. His own rib! Isn’t that twisted?  And you think a little fellatio bothers me?”

“Mhmmn mmm mhhmmm...”

“Shh… don’t talk with your mouth full my son.”

In the distance I can hear the children laughing and running on the playground.  The birds chirp overhead as the leaves rustle in the trees.  

And then, sirens.  

- - - - 

On the news that night, two men are shown led away in handcuffs: "...a local man and an escaped mental patient claiming to be God were caught engaging in sexual acts in a public park... "

(Challenge: 2nd Date with God)

____________________________________

"Prove it.  What would you do?"

The question is a loaded one. She sits, utterly relaxed, cigar smoke pooling around her like some kind of halo. Her highball glass, half-emptied of an old fashioned, gently swirls as she toys with it.

I don't know what to say.

"I'd never really considered it, I suppose." It is all I can do to choke out that answer. To fill the empty air between us, I nervously sip on my bloody mary.

I know who she is, of course. She'd made it abundantly clear by demonstrating a minor miracle the last time we saw one another. I was charmed, amazed, and petrified, all at once. 

She'd done her best to soothe my fears, but it's hard not to be awestruck.  It's even harder to not be more than a little afraid.

I was half expecting a trumpeting Michael, or something, but was relieved when I received a simple text. "I'm having a drink at Paul's Place tonight at 7, if you'd like to join me.  I'll be glad to see you."

Unpretentious, unassuming, but still a little cocky. Like I didn't have plans tonight? Like I would just drop everything because she was going to be at some little cigar bar down the street from me?

Of course I canceled the dinner plans I had with my friends from work, and here I am.

What would you do, she aks.  The irony of the question isn't lost, to be sure. Images of cheesy bumper stickers flash in my mind, and I'm sure that is her intention. Legions of her lemmings practically line up wearing those tee-shirts and wristbands.

"We'll put a pin in that for now." Peering over the brim of her glass, I can see a hint of laughter in her eyes as she sips the whiskey.

I sigh with relief. "Thank you." I practically chug my cocktail.

"You seem nervous."

"You should be used to that reaction."

"I want you to be relaxed. Completely at ease."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Wincing, I snatch the celery from my glass and chomp down on it, to keep myself from speaking further.

To my surprise, she laughs. It is a throaty, deep laugh, not at all matronly or familial. It is ... almost seductive.

For the first time, I truly understand why women fall for powerful men. Images of presidents, actors, and fictional president actors flash in my mind. They always managed to attract such unlikely partners.

"Yes, that Kevin Spacey is something else, isn't he?" Her tone is playful, but I still choke on my celery. "Careful, A. Chew. Swallow. Breathe. I admit, sometimes the design leaves a little to be desired, with life and death so close to one another. I'm also a little disappointed, sometimes, in running the plumbing through the recreational area, but, well. Life is balance." She puffs her Nat Sherman and smirks.

A few patrons turn to look at me. At her gesture, they studiously begin to ignore my coughing. Finally, I recover, and I finish my drink in one gulp. As if by magic, a waiter whisks away the old glass and replaces it with a new, fresh drink.

"It isn't that I doubt your dedication, Abe. Truly, I don't. I know you love me."

I furiously nod my head in the affirmative.

She continues, "It's just that, well. Sometimes, I require...proof. It isn't for me, so much, as it is for them." She gestures with her smoldering cigar at the patrons of the bar. "They're savages. They mean well, I know. But they're still practically cave men, trembling at thunder and losing their fucking minds at every full moon. Don't even get me started on eclipses. Jesus." The single large ice cube clinks as it bounces off of the glass as she drains it. Staring off into nowhere, she fishes out the orange slice, absentmindedly nibbling the fruit before discarding the rind onto her small square napkin. Before she speaks again, another Old Fashioned replaces her empty one. "The wait staff is very attentive here," she comments.

"I think they know you." I manage a feeble laugh.

"People haven't known me in a long time, Abe." Sadness creeps into her voice, and it scares me more than wrath. She turns her gaze towards me, peering within. "Tell me about Sarah."

It catches me off guard.

"Tell you what?" I'm flustered. "I mean, you already know, right?"

She sighs.

"Indulge me, would you?" Expectantly, she pulls on her cigar.

"I mean, she's a good woman. A great mother."

"But?"

"But we were just incompatible."

"So you're between wives, is it?"  Her eyes twinkle.

"Something like that. But I'm in no hurry to remarry."

"I see. Is that why you are on Tinder?"

"Well, yes. I mean, I get lonely."

"Oh, that I can understand."

"What about you? Why would you...need Tinder?"

"I tried Grinder for a while, but I got bored.  Not enough conversation. I figured I'd switch avatars, see what happens."

"Don't you already know what's going to happen?" I nervously pluck the olive from its little plastic sword.

"I still like to experiment, Abe. That's how we ended up with wonderful things like the platypus. And artichokes."

I don't quite know how to respond to that, so I go on about my ex-wife. "Sarah is a fantastic mother, but she agreed that we weren't a great fit. I mean, our parents arranged the wedding, and all that. Very old world."

"I'm fond of the Old World. People truly knew me, then."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." I trail off, thinking it best to just take another drink.

She sighs. "Oh, stop apologizing. You know me just fine. That's why we're here."

"To be fair, we're here because the picture you posted was hella hot."

She smiles. "Thanks."

"I mean, you practically look like a carbon-copy of Scarlet Johansen."

"There are no accidents, Abe."

"Right." Another nervous sip.  I consider asking about geoducks or naked mole rats, but I let it ride.  It's almost too easy to let my mouth run, with the Grey Goose coursing through me.

"You're right about Sarah. She is a good woman. I'm sorry you two haven't been able to make things work. I'll send you someone you'll be fully compatible with, if you like."

"I'm in no hurry. Playing the field has been fun."  I sip.

"You're getting no younger."  She sips.

"True. And my tastes seem to stay the same."  I sip a lot, blushing at the confession.

"Lucky for you there are a lot of ladies out there who like older, wiser men."  She spares me a small smile.

"I'm not exactly old, you know."

"No, but you will be."

"So you're telling me my future, now?" Vodka makes me bold, it seems.

She grins, and I relax. I'm not sure how far I can carry things with her.

Finishing with her cigar, she puts her elbows on her knees. Leaning forward, she peers into my eyes. It takes everything I have not to squirm, gazing into that beautiful abyss.

"I'm going to make your dreams come true, Abe. All of them. Every. Last. One. Because I like you." My reaction to her words is visceral. Crude.

She glances down at the physical manifestation of my enthusiasm.

Smirking, she traces a finger along my thigh.

"Answer my original question, Abraham. Will you prove that you love me?"

Stammering, I finally release a "Yes" at nearly a yell. To make sure my point gets across, I nod enthusiastically.

"Great. Then let's go pick up Isaac from his mom's house."

God help me, I know what she means me to do, but I still can't lead her out of the bar fast enough.

    I killed, I lied, I stole, and I died, thus marking my first date with God. Strangely, he had the anatomical structure of a human, but I couldn't see his face. It was canopied in a shining gold light. He spoke with a deep and imposing voice that would make the likes of Jeremy Irons and James Earl Jones jealous. I expected him to sentence me to the very depths of hell; Billions of souls screaming for forgiveness or Mercy while flowing in the unforgiving hellfire. Then I heard, "One more chance to write your wrongs, and the wrongs of others." I was shocked, and so were all of the angels that were standing by. I wanted to say so many things but before I knew it, I was sitting on a couch watching a video of Planet Earth. I realized then and there that I needed to right my wrongs and do what God willed. For the next several months, I worked at homeless shelters, gave food to those in need, and I even gave speeches at local schools advising kids not to steal or hang with anyone who treats you like your nothing to them. I did so many things, but my biggest moment of redemption came when I decided to turn myself in for the murder of Billy Thomas, a 12 year old boy I killed during a crossfire with a rival gang. I had managed to escape my Justice by threatening the poor boys parents into keeping their mouths shut. So, I traveled back to Los Angeles, and turned myself in... Along with my accomplishes. At the end of my trial, I was sentenced 30 years to life in prison. Surprisingly, It was the happiest day of my life. Prison was much like I expected, gangs and abuse by both inmates and guards alike. I was trying my best to stay positive while serving my sentence and for the most part, I did. Until one day, two men entered my cell and said, "This is what happens to snitches!" I remember every Stab and every tear that went down my face. And then there was light. My second date with God had arrived, but this time, I saw his face. This time, he opened the gates of heaven to me.

Well, diary, I did it again. 

I went out with God again last night, even after promising myself not to. I don't know what happened. It feels like I just blinked and boom there I was, sitting across from at the table watching him turn water into wine and going on and on about all the great things he's done. 

Turns out he has a kid too, can you believe that? Second date and he drops a kid bomb on me. He's really a class act. Think the kid is grown, though, and don't think he even has any idea what the kid is up to these days. From what I can gather he lives with his mother. Boy, does she sound like a character.

When he wasn't trying to impress me with his wine skills, he was going on and on about this new phase of life he's in. Apparently he used to be a pretty jealous guy, but he's turning over a new leaf (not that I could tell). He told me all about how he used to go after his exes and the people that screwed him over in business. Not an attractive trait...no matter how many years ago it was.

I got so bored with it all at one point that I tried to talk to him about politics. Boy was that a mistake. Turns out he's a huge Trump fan. Who knew? I guess I should have known that one megalomaniac would love another. Unfortunately that just opened up a door to a whole world of weird. The guy really, REALLY can't stand shellfish. Or women on their periods, or, seemingly, anything that's any good. 

All-in-all, I'll just chalk this up to a lesson learned. STOP SWIPING RIGHT YOU SILLY COW. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS. I've deleted him from FB and blocked his number. Here's hoping to better dates in future...

I don’t remember very clearly first hand. It was a blind date to be sure. February 7, 1980, a Tuesday, exactly 9:15 am. It’s a childhood fling that Mother recalls as a moment of eternal pain. There was a baptismal kind of flood of water—I cried something awful, she reminds me, at the first light of your presence. Indeed, all my senses were aroused and I babbled incomprehensibly, completely oblivious to my foolishness. But you gathered me to your receptive heart, murmured with infinite sound what a Babe I was, and I knew deeply what it was to be wanted. 

Everyone marveled at the arrangement: us living—all together—all of a sudden. Insinuations of indecency aside, they Oooed and Aaaah at our perfection and credited you for the creation of such complete happiness. But just as quickly as you lit my life, you dispersed, and I looked for you everywhere, longing to reclaim that very first magic spark.

To every newcomer, I held our my hands and tried to grasp you back; grasping at zephyrs… So much time elapsed in doubt. Where did you go? How could you give so much joy, and abandon me to kindle some other love yet unborn? Some 9:16 am. It immediately irritated me…and I wailed my discontent, feeling ugly, hungry, naked, soiled, and alone. Who knew I would spend so long trying to regain my faith in you, and in me; because when you disguised yourself behind an endless stream of faces and popped in and out of infinite spaces, I lost confidence in the smallness of my self. I was no longer best—not the belly button of the universe—just another cell among billions of Others. Dime a dozen. And I wasn’t whole, until the second date, that of our first born…

Then, once again water broke, anointing, outstretched little arms receiving the entirety of your love. And the hole in my life I could see was open, but now healed. Though you just as quickly disappeared, I saw you reappearing, winking at me and whispering directives in my ear. Yes, I do tear; you are so removed, yet so near, my celestial paramour.

And I feel you close... I no longer wait. I don’t believe. I know you have already set another date—one for which I can Never be late.

     I fought to conceal the smile forming on my lips. I brought my glass up to hide the growing grin. I would not give him the satisfaction of my laughter after that godawful pun.

     “I saw it, I saw that smile!” They exclaimed, their grin that of pure joy and I couldn’t help but smile back.

     I shook my head and lowered my glass, “Don’t patronize me,” I replied, with no real meaning in the words. Our laughter died down and it grew quiet. In the silence I found the courage to start the conversation I knew we need to have.

     “Okay, I have to admit, I didn’t believe the whole God thing on our first date,” I confessed.

     “Yeah, when I look back, I probably shouldn’t have teleported us to see the northern lights out of the blue like I did,”

     “A warning would have been nice,” I said shifting in my chair, “And you’re probably expecting it, but I have a few questions,” I was raised Catholic, but I was never devout, never having the faith others did. God had approached me in mortal form to ask for the first date and when it slipped out that they were God, I didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe. I almost refused the requested second date. I didn’t want to associate with a deity I held no faith in. And despite God proving their status, I still did not have any religious faith for them and I did not want to face him when I held such a secret. Yet here I was, hoping maybe something would change. Hoping they would give me an answer that would change the disbelief I still held.

     They sat straighter giving me their full attention, “Ask away-”

     “How old are you?” I asked suddenly.

     Their eyebrows lifted in surprise, “Oh wow, umm, only about four thousand years? Have to say no one’s asked me that in a while.”

     My mouth went dry; I was shocked. Not by how old, but because of how young, “I-” I cleared my throat and started again. “I thought it would be in the billions at least, was actually expecting the ‘beginning of time’ line.” I admitted.

     “Well,” They replied hesitantly, “I actually wasn’t the first god, and I won’t be the last,”

I stared at God, evaluating their words. Was ‘God’ just a job title? Did they cycle through? Did Gods retire? Did they die? God claimed to be four thousand years old, and that they weren’t the only god. From what I remembered from the Bible, neither of those statements was supposed to be true. God watched as I chewed on my bottom lip, my brows burrowed in confusion. I opened my mouth to voice my confusion when another thought shot into my mind.

     “Did you mean you were not the only Christian God, or you were not the only god,” I spoke carefully.

     “I am not the only god,” They started in a cautious voice, “Judaism started about four thousand years ago, that is when I began, and when the religion began to form. Most religions formed because there was a god, or gods, that inspired faith among the people. I was lucky enough to be able to do such a thing. I have powers and knowledge and so do others, I am not the only God,” they began to spout. “I am not the only God that deserves worshipers. There are people who do not believe in any God, and they deserve no less respect than those who do. Not everything in the bible happened; some things got blown out of proportion, some of it the people just wanted to believe, so they did.” The words came out raw and unprepared. They’re respect and views were genuine. They glanced to the side, their body tense and eyes filled with uncertainty. They rubbed the back of their neck and kept their gaze away from the table. The table was quiet as we sought for words to say.

     “So, tell me,” I started, “are there god’s night?”

Their eyes snapped to mine, “What?” They asked, somewhat hesitant.

     “You know, like girl’s night but with all the gods! You guys have to have gotten together and hung out!” I determined, “You better not tell me that in your four thousand years of life, you and the other deities haven’t gone out and had fun at least once.”

They quickly regained composure, trying to laugh off their shock “I can’t reveal all my secrets in one night,”

     “On the first date we got philosophical about the meaning of life, the second date I learn there are other gods, but I have to wait till the third date to learn whether or not you’ve hung out with Zeus? You’re trying to keep this mysterious god persona, but I already know you’re a goof who tells puns,” I said blatantly.

     They shook their head in disbelief, a small smile on their lips “Well, since my covers blown,” They said with a shrug, “Why did a hawk land on a church’s steeple?” I glared at them a smile tugging at my lips.

     They leaned across the table, already looking delighted “Because it was a bird of pray,”

     “Oh my God,” I moaned leaning back in my chair.

     My eyes widened. I tensed up and dared to look at them to see if they had realized. They were already looking at me with a smug smile.

     “I think that counts as a pun,” They claimed.

     “I’m done, I’m leaving,” I said halfheartedly, “you’re rubbing off on me and I won’t stand for it,”

     “Then how are you going to leave if you don’t stand?”

     I couldn’t help it, I laughed. It was all absurd. I was on a second date with God. A god who ate dinner and told puns and corny jokes. A god that was nothing like I expected at all. They were normal. So much so, I could forget I was even speaking to a god. I heard their laughter with mine and despite it all my grin grew wider.

      After a long while our laughter died down. “Why are we doing this,” I asked the one questioned that had been on my mind since staring at the brilliant streaks of Aurora Borealis, “Why are you doing this?”

     The god sobered as they looked at me with a tender gaze, “Because you make me feel more human than I have in a very long time,”

     I wanted to feel flattered that She asked me on a second date.  Still, I couldn't escape the nagging truth- She had the ability to make of me anything She desired.  So wasn't I really the most easily molded clay She chanced upon?  But, isn't "chance" not Her gig?!  I decided if it is to be Her will, so be it.  (How funny to think I even had a say- I mean, really?!)

     So, what does one wear on a second date with I Am?  Our first meeting had been a blind date.  I mean, literally, I was without sight.  Had been since birth.  One touch of Her hands, however, and voila- the gift of sight!!  And what a vision She was!  She wore white (in retrospect, no surprise) from head to toe.  Daisies crowned Her golden hair. Her pantsuit hugged Her curves.  Her long legs gave way to dazzling gold flecked sandals. Even her delicate toenails were painted a glossy white.

     I showered, suddenly bashful of my nakedness.  Could She see me?  I lathered.  The soap bubbles that had always tickled my nose, I now noticed, were a marvelous yellow brilliance.  And, the shampoo, always a fresh scent, proved to be a milky green.  Once out of the shower I hastily grabbed my towel (lest She be watching!).

     With a chuckle, I realized it didn't much matter what I chose to wear- and guessed it was preordained.  Plus, She could always change it if it didn't suit her(no pun intended!).  As a visually impaired individual I had either dark clothes or white clothes.  The colors in between never held much significance before.  So, I donned a dark pair of chinos and a white shirt.  Glancing in the mirror before leaving, I resisted the urge to ask, "Can I take your order, Ma'am?" and headed to the door.  A true gentleman, my Lord's Shepherd, I grabbed the keys and went to pick up the Lamb of God!

“You know I am married,” She repeated, sliding her forefinger across the brim of her empty wine glass. God sighed gesturing subtly to draw the moisture in the air to her glass, starting the dramatic switch to wine only after it had been half filled. “Adultery hasn’t stopped being a thing has it?”

“Listen, Mary,” God spoke “It’s not exactly like that. Endgames the same but there is a subtle difference in logistics that grants this case an allowance.”

She raised a brow “Why take me out a second time if this is so important to you? Why don’t we just get it over with?”

“There's an order to things, you don’t strictly need to understand. It can’t be done until the third date.” She clicked her tongue and leaned back in her seat.

“Joseph isn’t going to like this, not one bit.”

“Trust me nobody ends up caring that much,” God muttered as he stabbed at the food around his plate.

“Really? You know that?” There was a sudden stutter in Gods movement.

“Y… well yeah,” He answered taking a second to look up from his plate. “I’m God. I am the Alpha and the Omega. Who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty.” Mary practically jumped out of her seat. She looked God dead in the eyes then glanced away quickly and bit her lip in thought.

“What is it?” he asked. She slowly turned back to him.

“S… So you can see into the future and the past?”

“Well I kinda am the future and the past, existing as one if you can wrap your head around that it's actually very interesting…”

“So, could you please answer a question for me?” God took a moment to think.

“Sure, as long as it's just the one.”

“Am I remembered?” God lowered his eyes back to his plate.

“You children. No, they get your being but not your soul. That's a very misguided question.” Mary sat up, forcefully folding her arms. “Now you should have asked what meaning there is in your life, you're about to bring the world her savior.” Mary stood up.

“I hope you don’t act this way on the third date.” God sighed.

“Women,” he mumbled to himself.

On my second date with God, He took me to a beautiful, secluded island. The sun began to set as we walked along the beach, our footprints trailing in the sand behind us.

“Nice view, huh?” He remarked, gesturing outward. I simply nodded.

“You're welcome.” He chuckled. I laughed nervously. Of all the people in the world, I knew I had no business being in His Almighty presence.

“Relax, my child. The rules are simple. You get three questions. Choose carefully.” He said.

“W-what is the m-meaning of life?” I stuttered.

“Is that really the question you wish to ask me?” God said.

“N-no.” I said.

“Okay then. Let's start again. No do-overs this time. What do you honestly want to know?” He asked.

“Is Jesus really your son?” I asked.

“Every single man, woman, boy, and girl on this Earth, both living and past, were born of me, flesh of my flesh. You are all my children whom I love unconditionally. Even when you forsake me, ignore me, doubt me, and do wicked things to one another, I am still here with open arms, waiting to welcome you. I created life on this Earth, so my spirit lives on in each one of you. Jesus is my son, just as you are my daughter.” God explained. “Next question.”

“If we're your children, and you love us so much, why don't you intervene and stop us from killing each other?” I asked. “Um...sir.” I quickly added.

“It may not seem like it at times, but free will is a blessing. But it can also be a curse. You are very frail and volatile beings. The biggest threat posed to you is yourselves. Although the power to choose your own path in life is one my greatest gifts to humankind, it is also a tremendous responsibility, one you must learn not to squander. If I were to take all that away to keep you safe from each other, could you be happy? Imagine if every single part of your life had already been decided for without your say or consent. Is that the type of life you would want?” He responded.

“I guess not...” I said.

“Last question. Make it a good one.” He joked.

There were so many questions swirling around in my head, but I knew there was one in particular that only God could answer.

“Why...why did I have to die?”