God, where are you? (page 6)

onacruse

asleif:

Why do we feel these things "had" to be created?

Three reasons I believe in a creative personal God: ontological, cosmological, and teleological. However, these are not definitive proofs; they work for me. Thus the operative phrase in your comment is "we feel."

Intro, Katie and I really enjoyed our conversation with you this morning; much food for thought (or, non-thought, as the case may be ). You are now on our "list." LOL

Azalo, "you are a god." One month ago I would have bridled at that comment. But, after all, as Scripture says, we were created in the image of God; that would make us gods too, eh? "Here they have become like us..."

nowisee:

God does not speak to me audibly, but i sense his presence in my life...maybe in the end it all boils down to faith.

Rather like what IW suggested about "God coming to me in a dream I don't remember." I can't say that I feel God's presence in my life, but I do feel his presence in my thoughts. I've concluded that he has deliberately disengaged himself from "interfering" with my life; it's the life he gave me to live as I see fit, so just go "do it." But I can't, nor do I want to, disengage him from my thoughts...and that's exactly what faith is, my personal hypostasis.

Valis: I've not read "Towing Jehovah," but the title rings a bell. I'll look for it.

Mr. Kim: God has no choice but to be satisfied with me. The Creator cannot deny his own creation.

jst2 and IW, I'll follow up a little later (you just had to go and say that "quantum" word, didn't ya? LOL)

Craig

Big Tex

One of my therapists once told me this story once when we got on the subject of God and spirituality:

At the time she was working for social services and was asked, on her day off, to go make a report on a little boy who had been horribly abused and was now in foster care. She grumbled mightily (especially since it was like an hour's drive away) but she went. She stopped by some local store to get a sandwich and gas for her car. While inside paying for it, she saw a stack of stuffed teddy bears. She was about to buy one for the little boy, but she put it back when she saw the price. As she got back in her car she felt guilty, so she went back inside and (as she said), "bought the rip off teddy bear".

So she gets to the house, and it's kind of dingy and not very well kept up. She pulls up and this middle aged couple come out. They talk and then go inside. They call the little boy who very shyly comes around the corner. My therapist had the teddy bear behind her back and whipped it out to show him. She said his jaw dropped and these big tears formed in his eyes. He turned suddenly and ran back into the hallway.

My therapist said she didn't know what to think, but before she could ask the couple if he was okay, the little boy came running back and showed her a tattered little picture cut from the newspaper. It was that teddy bear.

The woman explained to my therapist that that he had brought that picture with him when he came to stay with them and every night said a prayer to God asking God for that bear.

Then she said this to me: "I don't know what ever happened to that little boy, the odds of him having a good life were not good, but for one brief moment his God came alive and reached out to him and touched him with love."

I don't now why God allows bad things to happen to good people. I don't know if everything in the Bible is 100% true and correct. I don't even know if he's Christian, Muslin or Hindu.

But I do know that when I talk to my God I feel something. I get more out of someone I can't see and can't touch than I ever did from the man and woman who produced me. And so there is peace. He knows who I am, and what I have been through. That is my teddy bear and that's all I've ever asked for.

nowisee

big tex,

as usual you have told a story beautifully, and in this case a beautiful story.

i'm sure there will be those who call it a coincidence, nothing more, nothing less. i see it as God having answered that little boy's prayer. that is my belief and faith.

very best wishes, nowisee

plmkrzy

Does anybody know where I can get a new prayer card? I think mine is running low on minutes and need to renew it.

My neighbor...dear woman...brought me a prayer card from her church to carry with me where ever I go.

I have no idea if it really works or not.

aHAAA! I finally got it. duh........by clicking on the subject heading, it will take you to the page where you can edit your post!

gee and to think I won't remember this tomorrow.

Shakita

Yes, Big Tex it was a wonderful story. That little boy will never forget how God answered his prayers.

My problem comes in when God doesn't listen to the prayers of others who have more pressing problems than wanting a new teddy bear. Why oh why does God pick and choose who is more worthy to receive an answer? The luck of the draw? What happened to the prayers of all those men and women who died on 9/11 asking for God to spare their lives, to see their children and spouses again? The same can be said for all humanity since the beginning of time who asked that question... why didn't God answer MY prayer?

I was always told that if I had a question about God that I should go to him in prayer for an answer. Well, he never answered any of my prayers, or maybe he was out to lunch when I was calling.

Mrs. Shakita

Valis

God, where are you?

um dude...I'm right here...we evene talked on the phone last night....freakin humans...needy needy needy...*LOL*

Sincerely,

Distrtict Overbeer of the "Telephone Diety" class

IslandWoman

Mrs. Shakita,

Do you think God should answer all prayers? Why should he? He made and gave us a beautiful earth. We war, we kill, we trash our children, we trash the land and sea, some wallow in fat while others go hungry.......and it goes on. All of this we choose to do, we bring it upon ourselves, individually or collectively by not demanding better leadership from government and religious leaders.

If parent's had a child whose room was filled with the best toys, and he had all the food and entertainment he could ever want but he trashed his toys, ate like a pig, picked on neighbor's children and then whined to his parents for more toys, and cried that the kid next door hit him back, we would call that child a brat, an ungrateful brat.

Sometimes I think that God must feel that way about us also. Mankind must grow up, must act like an adult before it should expect anymore stuff from "Daddy", imo.

IW