The Divine Bipolar

What is hard to believe,

What frightens me so,

Is that on the first day

He made the heavens and the earth from scratch —

He threw paint cans and Crayola crayons

All about a nothingness,

He sewed stars onto the sky and

Ran extension cords around planets —

And on the second day,

The third,

The fourth,

The fifth,

And even on the sixth,

He did flips, made darkness, grew plants,

Raised sea monsters to life, and

Formed woman and her breasts out of nubile, naked man —

But on the seventh day,

He, the weary artist,

Shall kick off His shoes,

Smoke a Camel and down some Jack,

Play poker with the Seraphim and

Sleep a good twelve hours —

Only to wake on the eighth

Pissed off and hungover,

And — like an ex-girlfriend of mine in one of

Her more self-destructive moments —

Take all of His artwork and smash it,

Rip it, tear it into a

New heaven and new earth,

Ask us to be happy that the art we once loved

Now lies in irredeemable pieces —

Is it sacrilege

to wonder

if God needs therapy

or meds?

It was good, He said.

So good, He said.

Published by R.L. Stollar

R.L. Stollar is a child liberation theologian and an advocate for children and abuse survivors. The author of an upcoming book on child liberation theology, The Kingdom of Children, Ryan has an M.H.S. in Child Protection from Nova Southeastern University and an M.A. in Eastern Classics from St. John’s College.

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