tinyrosemarysparrows:

My god stands before me and He asks, “What right do you have to be here? What right is it that allows you to know Me and follow Me?”

I do not breathe. I do not bend. I dare to look in His eyes, though the rational part of my mind begs me to run and hide from something so Other. He is a god. I cannot hope to comprehend godhood as I am and yet I stand almost defiant in front of Him.

No, that’s the trick.

There is a twinkle in His eyes.

It’s not before or against. I stand with Him.

“It is my own right,” I reply, voice loud and sure despite myself.

My god laughs the sound of crashing waves.