In The Beginning...
Dear Everyone Everywhere,
Happy Birthday!!! Ha, ha! You thought I forgot, didn’t you? Happy 6,012th birthday… I think. Or it might be your 6,008th birthday. I’ve never been very good at math. But I do know it’s your birthday, because I have it marked on My calendar.
If you flip this postcard over, you can see the cake I baked for you. The boys helped. I let Them mix up the food coloring, just like in the original, (which is why some oceans are blue, some are green and parts are a sort of mish-mash of all the colors – Hippie Jesus thought it would look like a rainbow, but it just turned out brown – sorry).
Boy, that brings Me back. I was so proud when you were born. I remember humming this very catchy tune that day. “The sun is a mass of hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm, a gigantic hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm…” Of course, I’d never heard of plasma at the time. I understand they’ve changed the words of the song to “miasma of incandescent plasma”, but it’s still catchy. You know how you get a tune stuck in your head and can’t get rid of it? I didn’t shake that one until somebody came up with Gregorian chants.
Anywho, I know I haven’t been around much. I know you were pretty bummed that I missed your first Little League game… and I’m sorry you had to learn to fly without Me… and I wasn’t there to kiss your boo-boo the first time you crashed. I really wanted to be there to give you a hand when the school bully was picking on you, too. I know I’ve never sent any child support – in fact, just the opposite. And, okay, I wasn’t around to warn you that playing with fire can be dangerous. But I sent a card for your birthday! That’s pretty cool of Me, huh?
I just wish I could be there while you blow out the candles and make a wish. I’d love to watch you open your presents, as well; but I’ve got to catch a flight in a couple of hours.
Now, don’t cry! Don’t cry. Sheesh! Don’t act like a 3,000 year-old. Be a big universe. Your not in your Dark Ages any more. I don’t know what Gaia has been telling you, but a universe your age doesn’t cry. Not even when a deity goes out for a pack of smokes and forgets to come back. It’s time you learned to take care of yourself, anyway. You can’t just keep wishing and waiting for things that aren’t going to happen.
It’s like My old professor used to tell us in Miracles 101, “Wish in one hand and spit in the other. Now see which one fills up first.” Words of wisdom. So the next time you find yourself wishing for Me, just spit in your hand. At the end of the day no one will want to shake with you and I’ll be on the French Riviera.
Happy birthday again, from Me and the boys.
Wish I Was There,