God's Last Gift

As His time comes, God considers His last gift to humanity. Just a little musing on matters religious, inspired by some findings that were in the news recently 750 words Writing time : An hour Finished : Can't remember Download as Word file

I am tired. So very, very tired.

This work has been both long and lonely, and I would rest. Soon I will; forever rest. So much that I have done will be undone once I am gone, but I know that whatever is to come, will come from me.

I look down, and see them, made in my image. They walk and talk and laugh and cry and love and hate, free to do all these things and more. Yes, both love and hate, both delight and misery - I cannot give them one without the other. Without right there is no wrong, without balance there is no choice, and without choice all I would leave would be mud and stones, not living, breathing men and women. So they love one another, and I feel such joy as I cannot give voice to, such joy that fills me as light fills the sky each dawn, and they hate one another and I know the cruellest pain that only a parent can feel. But they have the choice, and what they do with it is my gift to them.

I look around at this world I have left them, beyond it the sun and the stars and the wonders that lie beyond. To have laboured so long, with no hope of reward, is a labour of love indeed, but will they ever see it? Down there they run and hunt and eat and breed and fight and die, but they never look up. They never look out. They never wonder.

Have I truly made them in my image, after all? My time is running out, and only now do I stop to consider this. I who made the void and filled it with such sights to humble even the strongest and boldest of my people, I find my people have no time in their hearts for wonder, for majesty, for inspiration. This universe, dancing and pirouetting before the irresistible magic of creation, must not dance unseen. Any act of creation is an act of discovery, and now I know what my people lack. The final piece of the puzzle that is myself. In creating them, I discover myself and I see that what they lack in me is discovery itself. The relentless need to see more, to do more, to know more, to be more. For discovery is also creation. The need to explore and by exploring create oneself anew in the furnace of knowledge.

So this, then, will be my last gift. The need to know. I gather them up, and reach deep within their hearts and minds, creating the everlasting link between the two that will ensure their ravening curiosity. They will see the universe I have made for them, after I am gone. They will find they need to. They will see the wonders I have in store for them, after I am gone. They will hunger for them. They will see all that I have made and find themselves in that knowledge. They will know, once they have seen all that there is to see and know all that there is to know, who they are.

I set them down upon the earth, ready now to rest at last, my final gift starting its slow burn within their beings.

All around me now, creation moves with glorious and perfect purpose. And yet…

And yet…

All is not done. I am going now, but all is not done. It cannot be, for why else would I feel this way? Why else would I feel that I cannot go yet? The thing left undone is calling to me.

Yes – they will know themselves, but they will not know me! They will never know me. Once I am gone, all knowledge of me is gone. All that I have made and all that I have done will shine with eternal glory, but it will not shine on me. I have been too perfect in my creation – my hands made all, but my handprints are nowhere to be seen. I have been too perfect.

No time. No time. No time to leave anything of myself in my creation. It is too vast. Perhaps this is all I can do.

I reach down one last time, gather them up one last time, reach within them.

I will not be here, but you will look for me.

I will be gone, but you will try and find me.

I will not exist, but you will know that I do.

That is my final gift.

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