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“If God dwells inside us like some people say, I sure hope He likes enchiladas, because that’s what He’s getting” – Jack Handy
Today, using my seventh sense, I found a worm that had a god in it, and that god glared in at the god in me that had a worm in it. And it got me to questioning things: What is this drunken physiology; this aggrandized cell-tautology; this clockwork of blood and bone? What is this mechanism in my head, this impossible chimera, doing backflips in my skull? How can it even come close to being a thing that can comprehend such a concept as God?
And then I remember a quote by Goethe: “The highest to which man can attain is wonder.” And I think, maybe God is precisely this: wonder, imagination, curiosity, awe. But, then again, maybe not. And then I remember a quote by Paul Tillich: “There is a God behind the gods of men and women –one that can be experienced but not defined, and that makes all of our definitions woefully inadequate.” Bingo! Wait. What? We’re back to where we started? We sure are.
