A Sunday Chat with Myself (How Big is God?)

Don’t tell God that you have a big problem. Tell your problem that you have a big God!

The question of how big is God, is still a growing one with me, where I learn something new on the topic almost daily.  When I was a child and went to Sunday School, I imagined (was taught?) God to be a man, not much taller than my grandpa, who had a long white beard and walked around on clouds all day dressed in a long white robe, muttering and grumbling about this thing not being right, or that thing not acting like it should. To me, in my childhood, God was an angry god who constantly threatened that if we didn’t attend church regularly and give Him a lot of money, then when I died, He’d throw me into hell where I’d burn forever. At the time, that was more than enough for me to mind my parents—well, most of the time—and never, ever miss Sunday School. I knew that getting burnt by fire was a really painful experience—and to burn forever in a lake of brimstone and fire?I was really scared of God!

However, as I grew older and began to learn more about what constituted life, creation in general, and the cosmos as something larger than the clouds above me where God dwelt, my views of God started to change. I still saw God as a grouchy old man with a short fuse, but now He had elevated himself. He lived somewhere in the heavens a little higher up than the clouds, and He was a bit larger and more powerful than my grandpa.

“Lo, these are parts of his ways: but how little a portion is heard of him? but the thunder of his power who can understand?” — Job 26:14

My evolutionary understanding of what God is, has come a lo-o-o-ng  way that changed direction several times from childhood to my present. There was even a time when, as I saw the universe as an infinite, expanding place, I could not fit a physical God into it, for where would He reside in this universe? Where could his home be? I became a devout atheist! I rationalized that it was physically impossible for a god to rule infinity—and, from where would He rule, to begin with? Also, as a near infinite tiny speck in this creation, how could any god even know that I existed? Relative in size to the universe, how could God even see me, let alone hear any of my prayers?

“What is man, that thou art mindful of him?” — Psalm 8:4

My vision of what I thought God is, really fast tracked for me when, fairly recently, I was introduced to Zecharia Sitchin’s books, in particular, “The 12th planet,” and “There were giants upon the earth.” Suddenly, I saw humanity’s—including my own—version of (now Gods) suddenly  becoming plural: see Genesis 3:22) as giant extraterrestrials who had genetically modified us, first, as servants to the Anunnaki, then, thanks to Enki (now called Jesus, the Christ), we were engineered to “fall,” and become self-conscious, thinking beings: the Adapa (Adam) species were created on earth! This even explained why anthropology never had an answer as to where we came (evolved) from. They couldn’t find that missing link, and, that is most likely because we didn’t evolve from lower species, like anthropology claimed, but were created—not in a Biblical version by a grumpy old man, but by giant extraterrestrials who did, in all reality, come to earth “from the heavens,” and had their home “in the heavens.”

But, all this raised another. If the giants—the Anunnaki—created us—and out of their own gene pool—where is the god of my childhood?

Gregg Braden, in his “Missing Links” series on Gaia TV, claims that we could well be living in a giant, holographic universe, and stated: “our act, the act of us looking with the expectation that we will see something, is an act of creation within our simulated universe.” In other words, what we are looking for, and think we’ve found, we create it!

It seems like, in my quest to find and understand God, my search first went out to explore the clouds above me, then the infinite universe. Then, like a well balanced boomerang, my crusade came right back to me and showed me: I am my own God! I am the conscious creator of my world. Collectively, consciousness created the universe and its infinite possibilities. And I am part of that collective, conscious creation!

How cool is that, eh?

 

About Albert Schindler

I was born on the 27th of February, 1931, on a farm near Hubbard, Saskatchewan. As far back as I can remember I had a spirit that would not stay earthbound. In junior high, I remember taking first place for a short story in which I described my terrifying encounter with a dinosaur. In outer space – that is, when the teacher wasn’t directly speaking to me, I went where Buck Rogers wouldn’t dare go. I was more of a Calvin in Calvin and Hobbes type of guy, with my own, personal, very powerful, transmogrifyer always at the ready. In my ‘teens and twenties, I pushed aside my Calvin alter ego in favour of making a living and didn’t take seriously again my ‘writer’s bug’ until my late 30s. I still saw that the world as full of exciting things to learn and investigate, which my writing reflected in the several articles and a couple of short fiction pieces that I wrote and sold, including over 30 children’s radio plays for Alberta’s ACCESS Radio. Unfortunately, I abandoned my budding writing career in favour of starting my own business as a sign painter. Now that I can officially call myself ‘retired,’ I plan to resume my writing career, only this time, writing mostly fiction. Why fiction? I have lead a great, adventurous life in which I made many mistakes (the ‘adventure’ in life), that have taught me some very important lessons and allowed my spirit to grow to unimaginable proportions, inconceivable to me while still in my thirties. In fiction, I believe, one can adventure into both the inner and outer consciousness of man and the universe to infinite levels where only the boldest dare peak. Convention holds that article writing has to be factual – oh, you can be creative in how you present your information, but ‘fact’ (whatever that means) still must have its parameters in article writing, whereas fiction is limited only by the size of a writer’s spirit, and so far, I haven’t been able to fathom my limit.
This entry was posted in Mysticism, Points to Ponder, Religion, Spirituality, Thoughts and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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