Welcome to the beginning, followers. I would like to extend a warm virtual hug from all of us here at The Religion, for we are very excited to start the enormous task of writing The Bible for our creed. However, with that giddy antici…..pation comes a certain amount of stress. We certainly hope that we’ll be received well, but, this being the first piece of scripture, there is some pressure upon me, God. I mean, it’s not enough that I created the world and bless you all and yadayadayada. Now you want my wisdom to be put down in this most holy of blogs? As I just told Mary Magdalene on the Blessed Cell Phone, I am quite nervous. Will you like my words? Will they make any difference? Will I live up to the promises of greatness that Jesus, Mary Magdalene, the Virgin Mary and I have made to each other and to you, dear reader? This reminds me of another time during which nerves came into play, earlier today……
It was a bright day in my kingdom of the shore, located in the land called New Jersey, yet ominous clouds skulked around the beams of sun. I and my mortal friend Cierra were enjoying frolicking around the boardwalk, the acquarium, where we visited some of my creatures and the fun house, where we were treated to some low budget frights and thrills. The land-based joy was soon over, though, as we made our way to one of my most prized accomplishments. The beach was only slightly crowded, a surprise for natives like me, so we threw down our supplies and ran into the water. The waves were breaking harshly and a bit of chill still lingered in them from the frostier climates. I had done this many times, so it was not I that was nervous. It was Cierra.
She had not been to the ocean since she was small, so the waves both fascinated and frightened her. We ventured closer to the waves as she grew more and more comfortable, and I eventually convinced her to move beyond them, into the deeper water. I grasped her hand and led her to the breakers. A reasonably sized wave was coming in. It came closer…closer…closer. “JUMP!” I yelled and followed my own orders. I lost Cierra’s hand, but made it over the waves. Adjusting myself to the different temperature and depth, I looked around for Cierra. When I saw her, she was sprawled on the sand. She had panicked and been in an unlucky position; it was the perfect recipe for a wipeout. I made my way back to her and helped her calm down, as we were both shaken. She was covered in sand and small scratches, but on the whole alright. She vowed never again to enter the ocean, and we left as the sky broke over us, thunder and rain bidding us farewell.
It was her nerves that made her jump less steady, and it was mine that made this post more than a little difficult to write. In the end, however, we both came out of our places of fear stronger, more capable and with more experience to guide us in the future.
And that, my children, is why facing that which terrifies you is a worthy task. You may emerge better, or you may fail, but at least you will have tried.
