Lying about God

Amoakom and Famatle and Hims went walking in the woods next to a lake when Hims let go of his father’s hand and started finding and throwing rocks in the water watching them splash, the bigger the better for they made a larger splash while his parents held hands a losing interest in what he was doing began to talk.

“I worry about Hims a lot,” Famatle said, “He’s always telling his mama about God but it’s not the same God that we have.”

“Do you mean God or the Author?” Amoakom asked.

“They are the same God,” Famatle said, “It’s just some special arrangement with the Author. He’s a God that uses them to write since everything he writes is true. Hims’ God is a spooky horrible God that is an alien. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him or half the spooky stuff that is in that kid’s head. What do we do about it?”

“Just ignore him and tell him about our God,” Amoakom said, “Hopefully he’ll grow out of it.”

“Yeah,” Famatle said, “Hopefully,” but he could tell she was worried about it. “They could never put up with a God like that in Heaven, not the Heaven we know.”

“God will take care of it,” Amoakom said and dismissed it.

“Part of the problem is that when I tell him about God,” Famatle said, “It gets him started. To Hims God is a supernatural hero that does all sorts of spooky things that are not all that nice and he’s mean to him because he doesn’t like it. I wish there was an understanding pastor to talk to besides me.”

“You!” Amoakom mocked, “A pastor!”

She slugged him in the arm and said, “You know what I mean.”

“I do?” he asked. “Just what do you mean?”

“I mean like me instead of an understanding pastor not me being a pastor,” Famatle said and slugged him in the shoulder again but harder.

“Ouch!” Amoakom said, rubbing his shoulder as much from the pain as from the disapproval.

“Just be careful who you pick on then, mister,” she said with a frown.

Amoakom looked at Famatle thinking she was really angry and she was but it only lasted a moment as they fell silent in the next moment only to laugh as Amoakom rubbed his shoulder again.

“You know,” Famatle said, “I like the idea of the Holy Spirit helping us with sex. The Author I don’t know about. He’s really nice but he seems more like a male.”

“How do you think I feel?” Amoakom asked. “Either way it’s distasteful to me, a guy or a gal.”

“Yeah?” Famatle said and made a face to emphasize that.

“What do you think?” Amoakom thought out loud, “Wouldn’t it be something if we conceived on our own this time.”

“‘We?’” Famatle quoted him, “Like you do part of it!”

“You can’t do it by yourself,” Amoakom said.

“Oh!” Famatle said and started to double over, changed her mind and then did a little, “That hurt! Oh, ho! Ho! Oh ho!”

He knew he was in trouble and started to run down the trail ahead toward Hims looking back to see whether she really was so angry she could think of nothing else to say. When he saw that she had been more than just a moment he slowed and falling in beside her he tried to put his arm around her, but she caught it before it had cleared her shoulder and flung it back at him. So he just walked alongside her feeling guilty for he had meant it couldn’t be done without him and not that she couldn’t do it by herself, got confused as to whether they were the same thing when she said, “It’s alright. I forgive you. This time,” and he put his arm about her waist and pulled her to him and they kissed as Hims looked back and thought, ‘Again?’

“So,” Amoakom sighed, “Do you really think we can change Hims’ mind?”

“We can,” Famatle said, “If we try and God’s willing.”

There was a little wooden table not unlike a picnic table ahead and Hims ran to it and began crawling all over it and lying upon the benches.

“Let’s try!” he said, running to join his son. “Me first!”

“No!” Famatle said and started to run toward them as fast as she could, joining them just about the same time. “Me first!” as she screamed.

Hims was lying on his belly on one of the benches moving his hands back and forth in the grass.

Famatle looked at Amoakom and he looked back. She had a question in her expressions but he decided because of it to let her go first even though the unstated question was, ‘How do we even start?’ But taking the nod  as a yes as Amoakom realized what the question had really been and loved her for it, she put her hand flat on the wide part of her little son’s back.

“Sweety?” Famatle asked, “You know that what you say about God isn’t true. Don’t you?”

He looked at her astonished and wide eyed.

“Don’t you?” Famatle asked Hims again with a disapproving expression that was overdone a bit for the kid’s benefit.

Hims nodded real slowly and cast his eyes to the ground.

“I was just having fun, Mama,” he confessed and protested at the same time.

“You can have fun with God,” Famatle said, “But it is important to be right when you are talking about who God is. You don’t want Mama to get the wrong idea and worship your lie instead of the real God. Now do we?”

Hims shook his head in agreement with his mother’s question.

Then she rubbed his entire back and he soon felt better. “Ask God to forgive you?” Famatle said.

He closed his eyes and verbalized the words of a very short prayer one could easily see but kept his eyes closed listening. Then Hims looked up at his mother about ready to cry and mumbled, “He didn’t say anything. Does that mean he doesn’t forgive me?”

Famatle reached over his front to rub his back again saying, “‘Oh, ho, ho, no!’ He forgives you. He just thought you would already know that like people do. Honey, it is alright. I’m sure God forgives you. Does he ever say anything you can hear?”

Hims nodded. Then he was silent a moment before he shook his head and said, “I just thought he would this time.”

“You did a good thing,” Amoakom said with empathy.

“I didn’t do anything. God did,” Famatle said, “I was completely stumped the whole way.”

“You can stop worrying now,” Amoakom said and Famatle looked at him. Then, put her head on his insightful shoulder.