God is like a sleeping bag

 

Maybe,

God is like

a sleeping bag.

 

On one of those dark nights,

When life was battering you,

You found him;

climbed into him:

you rested in his gentle holding.

 

And then the morning came,

And you thought about how you could keep God with you.

It was easy at first:

Folding the end of him and rolling him up.

But the bag in which you would carry him,

soon seemed full.

Some of you will be experts at this,

but when God is your sleeping bag

don’t expect to stuff the last bit of him in.

 

If you could, what good would He be to you?

That sleeping bag stuffed into its own bag?

I guess you could lay down and rest your head on him.

He may soothe your thoughts;

smooth out your anxieties.

But how would He touch your heart?

How would He cradle your soul?

 

I guess you could sit on him.

He may enable you to take the weight off your feet,

whilst you wait.

For something; for someone.

Or maybe you could use him as a meditation cushion?

As you sit on God would He seep into you

And still you?

 

But I am not sure

That He will ever let you squeeze him into that bag.

I feel that as you begin to enclose him,

He will expand;

He will open out.

And when you go to pull the chord and hem him in,

You will look up and see that He has spilled out

And stretches beyond your grasp.

 

He gave you rest.

He held you in the darkness.

Is it impossible to carry him with you,

so that He is there when you need him again?

Is there something that you can carry that will contain him?

 

Yes!

You can carry him inside yourself.

In that space of your soul

Which longs for his presence,

and echoes the universe in its capacity to expand.

When you carry God inside you

your soul will grow.

God will gently push the edges outwards,

Sometimes slipping through its porous perimeter

And touching the world around you.

 

And if your soul should ever

become full of God,

He will pour out of you,

and cover the world

in a blanket of love.