Sometimes I feel sorry for God. I mean, it must be terribly boring to have to listen to the same complains or requests from so many folks. Myself? When I talk with God it is usually the same old thing. I’m no different than anyone else.
Sometimes I try to think of something a little different, just so that it’s worth His/Her time to listen, but I never come up with anything really original.
I figure God gets more complaints than Kudos, which is kinda a shame. I mean, there’s so much good stuff in the world, but we seldom notice or give credit.
Myself, I love moss. It’s tiny and compact, and absolutely beautiful. Every time I see moss, I think of faeries dancing on it. Yet how often to I remember to thank God for such beauty? Almost never. Shame on me.
Or books. I do love reading. And so many authors are so creative. They take me away to all sorts of marvelous places. The novels introduce me to people and places I’d never go to on my own. The non-fiction often inspires me to try something new, an idea, an art tip, a new gardening way, whatever. Straight History fascinates me too—all the research that goes into it, the people who have gone before. Yet how often do I thank God for Guttenberg? Or the creativity of the authors? Again, almost never. (even e-books owe their beginnings to Guttenberg)
Frankly, I like my own creativity and the pleasure I get from writing or doing my art. I ought to thank somebody for that.
So I apologize to God. For my distractedness in not noticing the good stuff, for my forgetting to compliment Him/Her
I’ll try to do better.