And the winner is
It's a twist on the Footprints poem that is rathe popular. And by twist, I mean twisted.
To keep it brief, here's the ending.
And slowly God replied, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when you carried me.’
The man frowned for a moment, paused, and then looked up. ‘Surely Lord,’ he began rather embarrassed to be correcting the Almighty, ‘you mean when you carried me.’
‘My dear child,’ God said, twisting a loose thread of cloth from his flowing robes, his face suddenly a mirror in which the old man saw the battles he had fought and the doubts he had put asunder, ‘this was the measure of your faith: when difficulties came, you gathered up this tired and arthritic God, and carried your beliefs to safety.’
A small wind blew through the old photographs and worn papers, and the two men sat in silence for a moment.
‘I have prepared a room for you,’ God said after a while, ‘though I quite understand if you don’t want me to stay.’
Yep, that's right--at the last judgment, we're going to be the ones to judge God. And we can kick Him out if we judge him unworthy.
Wow, who do you think would find that scenario a good thing? Here's a hint, he tried to do such a thing long ago, but fell like lightning from Heaven.
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