I look at the heavens you made with your hands. I see the moon and the stars you created. And I wonder, “Why are people so important to you? Why do you even think about them? Why do you care so much about humans? Why do you even notice them?” -Psalm 8:3 & 4, ERV
What’s the thing He has with me, huh? He’s always following me, hugging me, touching my cheeks with his soft hands, setting apart my dreams because He loves me…he really does? Whatever; I don’t see him stalking others who really need love. Not that I need any more love, though; my life is full of it. The world is my oyster, and I’m shucking it like a Maine oyster festival!
And yet I see Him everywhere. Does he get tired of stalking me? Last time I checked the fuel tank, the arrow was way beyond empty…but it kept running at 45 miles like the last guy. When I saw him at the park looking aimlessly at the sky, I saw him drawing hearts with my name on it. My full—name! And in the barber shop, he entered and gave me a pair of red flowers for my mom’s funeral –may she rest in peace. I was okay at first, but then intrigued. Then I sobbed a little (but just a little so my friends wouldn’t see me crying like a Twihard), and then I was okay.
But everyone was touched. Even the hot dog gordo who sells hot dogs downstairs. I swear, this dude is a magician. I mean, I’m a guy, and I love my friends, but I don’t love them love them like that tipo! I swear this guy is weird…
Now that I think about it, I’ve taken this guy for granted. I’ve spit him on his face, I’ve kept him waiting, and he still holds on to me? Either I should get a restraining order –thank goodness my father’s a cop!-, or I should investigate.
He always says “I love you” to me when Hell is trolling through my legs.
“I love you” when I tased him down my yard.
“I love you” when I bought those imported Russian pitbulls and chased him down the street.
“I love you” when I filled his car with thirty thousand copies of Ishtar.
And he still shows me love and respect with his hands tied on his back.
I’m sure I’ve seen a couple of holes in his hand. And his bare feet. And his head. And in his heart.
I don’t know if that’s stigmata. I don’t know-is he really bleeding for me?