Late this afternoon, I ran up our local legend Mount Tom again, and I got to thinking about God. Not too long ago, I read a novel, Life of Pi by Yann Martel, of which the premise was that it was a book that would make you believe in God. As someone who already believes in God, it didn’t swing my vote, but still the same, I was thinking about that as I climbed Mount Tom tonight and thinking this was a hill that would make anyone believe in God.
Why?
Because as I was climbing it…and I do mean climbing, as in walking/almost crawling, all I could think about was God. Like “how much longer, God, do I have to climb this mountain?” And “God help me up this thing.” I also should say I mean the Jesus God, not the Oprah God, and what I mean by that is not the warm, fuzzy, nebulous all-embracing concept of God that Ms. Winfrey has — although I should say there’s nothing wrong with that, to a degree, because hey, God can, and does embrace, everyone — but what I was thinking about as I climbed this hill tonight was the God of Billy and Franklin Graham, the God that you cry out to “Jesus! God! Help me!”
And did he help me?
Well, I’m here writing, aren’t I?
