My God Watches Me. . .

I had a journal entry I looked at that had hostility levied on differences in us and I thought it time to look at what unites as human beings.  It is a simple character attribute.

When we were children our parents expected we would be truth tellers.  We were asked the simple question. .  brushed your teeth?   The second question followed.. . .  why is your toothbrush dry?  We learned to tell the truth.

I was working with a lot of resentment one day unloading groceries in front of the house when a car pulled up and a young woman wanted to know where was a certain address.   She had underpaid a woman for an item at a garage sale and needed to make good on that.  She left and I continued with my task.

She returned and waved.  And thanked me and I said it was such a nice thing to do.  She said she must because My God Watches Me .  I looked at the open young face with a scarf hiding her hair and aware the hostility making heavy the air we breathe and the prejudiced perceptions circling.

While I had too many things to do and again at fault for being late,  I would have to admit my  resentment adding to the heaviness of  the air we breathe.   I did not share her belief system, but the Divine Within us both shared our humanity.  Time to make good on that.

MY GOD WATCHES ME. . . 

Over and over I create and recreate
situations and ordeals, arguments and wars
with symbolic enemies, but sometimes not.
I must of need watch my responses,
my actions and motives lest my
God think less of me.

So I spare my God further
annoyance by monitoring myself.
The situations and ordeals are best kept in mind.
I articulate my position to establish myself
several times in the course of a day.

The wars and arguments are pacified, only after
words become too tiresome to continue.
Peace becomes the only option.
I work toward perfection and a hard work it is.
As anyone who knows me would agree.
It is necessary though, you see,
for my God watches me.

I watch-dog my actions and harness my tongue
and change hurtful thoughts with labored caring.
It means I reconsider my earnest evaluations
of mine enemies and present the other cheek.

I prepare myself for sainthood
while I breathe the rarified air of my benign earth.
And watch myself as my God watches me.
Not so easy to do, this monumental work
of sanctification.

Of my internal warts and
grievous errors,  I am deeply conscious.
But perhaps I prevent them
from penetrating my soul
as long as I keep close the knowledge

that my God watches me.

 

Artwork by Claudia Hallissey

 

One Response to My God Watches Me. . .

  1. Claudia February 6, 2020 at 7:42 pm #

    It is a wonderful reflection. We all have that safety valve, I think.

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