God is not for me

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I can no longer believe in a God whose primary concern in the universe is me. I am sick under the weight of all the exhortations to have a personal relationship with Jesus. I sound jaded, probably because I’ve lost my personal relationship with God.

This God I have believed in for so long can be domesticated no more. What makes me more special than all the 7.346 billion-and-growing beings in the universe? Why is my plight so unique? The universe is so vast. Why should I be special in God’s eyes?

If God is so great, shouldn’t He be glorified in all of creation? Isn’t God concerned about everything?

I think the problem is that I have believed in a binary way, believing that God is either concerned about me or about everything else in the universe; that I am either the centre of the universe or non-existent. But this I know to be true: God is concerned about everyone, including me. I am not the story. I am not the beginning, middle or end. I am not a theme.

And yet, this is even more scandalous: God is concerned about BOTH me AND the universe. He loves me with the same never-ending degree of attachment that he loves every other human being. Because His ultimate concern is Himself, He loves me because He loves himself. He loves every being and the eternal universe because He loves Himself. 

He is the one who endows significance onto all things, which is why he loves it all. Because it’s a ‘piece’ of Him in all creation – His being reflected onto all of His creation and bouncing back to Him. That’s why He’s so invested in each thing. Because it’s the entire collective that pleases Him and shows the broadest representation of Himself in all His endless diversity.

I reflect God. You reflect God. All the people who have ever lived reflect God. God is for the whole world. And so I long, in the deepest crevices of my heart, for that beautiful, endless day when all creation sings in honour of its maker:

When the mountains tumble and roar in collective praise of their creator; when the sublime variety of birds and frogs flap their wings and croak together in holy fervor; when all the dogs bark for their saviour; when the colours of this world melt into endless light at the feet of the One from whom they came from;  when the voices of all of God’s children in every language, dialect and accent sing a glorious, rising chorus. 

Because I am thoroughly convinced that God loves diversity and is honoured by the multitude; by the collective joined in Oneness to honour Him who gave them life and colour.

This is why I cannot believe that God is only for me.


Inspired? Bemused? Confused? Unmoved? Thought-provoked? Still picking up your jaw? Couldn’t care less? Leave a Reply (below). Share your thoughts, experiences, tell your story, your genius idea, rant your guts out, drop a link or video, paint it red. No, seriously… leave your stamp! Unleash your inner sage! I invite you. 🙂
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Why I hesitate… to blog

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Thoughts foam aloft my head. I shoot for the stars but land beneath the clouds. Drop-drip-drop, the shallow, growing pool melts into the sun, dissolving into thin air, dispersed and formless – stillborn. Alas! Now I am thirsty, now I am ready to drink.

I hesitate… because I am new at this gig. I want the sentences to flow effortlessly. I want to be controversial and readable, acceptable and baffling.

I hesitate… because the each of the last four sentences begins with ‘I’. This seems an exercise in ego-buffing and bashless self-indulgence. Yes, I am a grandchild of the modernists – the individual is King. The empowered woman – a goddess, a Queen. The empowered African woman who dare give herself permission to be heard – a wind of change whistling across the Savannah concrete and grass ceilings!

I hesitate… because there is nothing new under the stars.

I hesitate… because I have only two eyes.

I hesitate… because eloquent souls have sailed the waves more gracefully than I.

Why should my voice rise above the murmur of 7.346 (and growing) billion?

And yet I must:

For I am part of a divine chorus,

A wide-eyed witness that must testify to the wild,

And unveil the hidden light.

Yes! There is life under the Sun.


Inspired? Bemused? Confused? Unmoved? Thought-provoked? Still picking your jaw off the floor? Couldn’t care less? Leave a Reply (below). Share your thoughts, experiences, tell your story, your genius idea, rant your guts out, drop a link or video, paint this rooftop red! No, seriously… leave your stamp. Unleash your inner sage! I invite you. 🙂