Making Music for God
God said:
Beloveds, I hear you. I hear you say:
“Dear God, what a God You are. You don’t despair. You don’t lock any doors. You unlock the doors within me that I lock to myself.
“I put myself into a trance as if the Meaning of Life can only be temporary. The temporary may be likened to a coat of many colors that I cover my soul with. I make this coat all-important, as if I have no say about it when the actuality is that I have all the say in the world about it. I hold this coat to me and wrap it around me as if it were Life itself.
“I am indeed wrapped up in the surface of Life, as if this surface is all that there is. I cover myself up from Reality. I hide myself away in a pocket. I look not into the Mirror of Myself. I fritter my Life away.
“Of course, You would say that I uphold fiction with my every breath. I wrest fiction from the world and call it my own.
“Does this mean I carry a false self that I reveal to the world even as I try to cover up the falseness of me with various ruses? When I look into a little mirror of myself, I must see an illustration of myself, even a cartoon of myself. I would like to look at myself in a clear mirror and see my reflection as You, God, do see me.
“Sometimes I don’t feel that I exist. I just hang out here in Life, refusing to get on with it. I persist in the illusion that I am a mere hollow tube when I am to be a flute for You, God.
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