What do you want?

Psalm 104

He sat in the tent.
It was hot and dry.
The only moisture came from his sweat.

His worries and pressures smothered him.
He piled it all in the middle of the tent.
The bills.
The checkbook.
His kids' report cards.
Memos from work.
Traffic tickets.
Even his Bible was thrown on the pile.

A tiny voice whispered in his ear,
but he tried to ignore it,
as one would ignore the voice of a gnat.
"Come outside."

He muttered to himself.
"I can't come outside.
Look at this pile!
I have to fix it.
I have to make it all make sense."
And he bent over the pile of his worries.
Shuffling.
Struggling.

The tiny voice was heard to say,
"I am God."

"God? I've got God here."
And he pointed at the Bible,
Jabbing his finger toward the leather,
shoving at the book
buried under the bills and memos.
"These are my problems,
and I have to fix them.
Then I'll have time for God."

Finally, the tent ripped.
Schizomai.
The hole wasn't very large,
but it was large enough to let in a fresh breeze,
which disturbed the pile,
blowing the papers around in the tent.
The man tried to gather them together,
but the wind prevented him.

He gave up
and stalked out of the tent
and into the night.
"FINE. Here I am.
What do you want?"

The night air was cool.
The wind caressed his skin.
The sand was soft under his feet,
and the moon lit the air.
"What do you want?" the man asked again.

"Look around you. Look up."
The man looked to the sky
which was filled with stars,
too numerous to count.
Meteors shot across the sky,
and comets meandered,
strolling across the blackness.
The earth was lit with the glory of heaven,
and the man's face was bathed in its light.

"What do you want?"
The man wispered it now,
in awe of all that he was seeing.

"I want you to know
that I created it all.
Each star. Each beam of light.
Every grain of sand under you feet.
I want you to know
that I created you.
And that I have not left you alone.
You make me too small
when you set me aside
like one of your problems.
I made all of this..."
and God's hand swept across the sky
trailing light and stardust.
"And I made you.
You are never alone with your problems,
unless you choose to be."

"What do you want?"
It was a tiny question now,
full of wonder and fear.

"I want you to know
that I am the God of all of this,
I want you to know
that you are mine.
I want you to know
that I love you."