So why in the world am I even interested in this God? All I want is self-sufficiency, a predictable income, good healthcare, nice kids, some social status, maybe publication in a respected periodical, good sleep, a dependable car that also looks nice, a little fun money on the side, some cool travel experiences, retirement security, a safe place to live, a reasonable commute to work, a grocery budget that includes ice cream, a dog, a cat, someone who can come by a few times a week to clean up after us and scoop the cat litter, home internet, and coffee every morning.
I'm not sure how I jumped to the conclusion that God might not be God, because all of my Middle Class American dreams might change with the arrival of two new babies in just a few months.
What if there's more to life than what I can accomplish and how much I can collect and how comfortable my life can be? I don't like that idea, because I want to be accomplished, rich, and comfortable.
And while I'm searching out signs of God's existence in happy outcomes and an easier life, He's trying to condition a soul. He's trying to pour more love and more light into this world, to re-connect this wanderer with her beginning and her end, and I'm still preoccupied with securing finances for another year of cable TV.
I don't know what God's doing, in the world, or even in my own small life. I don't know why He gave us twins, which completely throws off our family planning, career ambitions, and financial goals.
But I'm a little excited. Because it means God is bigger than my 21st Century American Dream, and Wally and I are a part of an unpredictable and wild, and somewhat scary, life.