There is another version of God that I’ve gotten to know. This God does not have a form. It is not a he or a she. It’s just there, like a wave of music as it swims around the room. A vibration that exists because it can’t not.
This version of God is like a web. A series of intersecting moments and places and times that hold everything together.
This God is present even when you forget to be. It seeps into the spaces inbetween. To the spaces that sometimes feel like huge crevices, but then somehow there is a bridge, a way out, through or over, that you hadn’t seen at first.
This God is a shapeshifter. One day it’s a baby’s gurgle, another day the bass line of some really good beats. A leaf floating in the wind. The smile on a stranger’s face. Uncontained, you can find this God anywhere.
This God doesn’t fit in a box. Try to name it and it finds another name. Try to describe it and it takes on a new sensation. It’s like air. You can’t capture it; only breathe it.
This God is color, sound, scent, and texture. It’s what you feel, what you see. It’s the thing that helps you make sense of this world; understand the ‘same same but different’ of you and me.
It is all around. Even when you can’t see it, It is there. Sometimes you forget to look, you forget to notice. And then the bird flies into your house. The friend calls. The youtube video that changes the trajectory of your life finds itself into your ‘watch next’ feed.
It moves in places we never thought was possible. It is beyond neuroscience, astrophysics, and even quantum physics. For sure it has Silicon Valley, Wall Street, and DC beat. It is beyond our understanding, and it thinks it’s hysterical we think we’ve nailed it.
And so it laughs, it chuckles, and smiles at our tenacity, determination, and fortitude to figure this all out. “We got it!”, we shout out. And then, whoosh, curve ball coming right your way.
This God knows how to have a good time. It parties like it’s still 1999. It reminds us to keep life light. It spills the milk.
This God, It is the spilt milk.
