A few minutes ago as I was nursing Jack to sleep and catching up on my e-mails a little red ant climbed up my arm, and it annoyed me, so without even looking at the little ant I used my thumb to smash him and then with my fingers flicked him away.
Then I got to thinking. I worry that God’s like that. There he is up in heaven, sitting in his favorite stuffed chair, checking his e-mail, and then this little ant Jill starts crawling up his arm, and it annoys him because he’s busy reading this e-mail from someone he hasn’t heard from in a long time, so without even looking at me his enormous thumb just smashes me on his arm, and then his big fingers flick miniscule me onto the floor.
And that’s that.
I constantly worry that he’s following me around with an ax over my head, and then maybe he’ll get really annoyed, or maybe he’ll trip, and then I will be utterly shattered or my life, at the very least, will lie in splintered ruins.
Why can’t I get over that image?