God says to me, being young, gifted, and dusty,
“This one time I will articulate why you’re loved by me.”
“Why Lord” like a child I interrupt.
“Why to why I would articulate this time or…” the Lord anticipated the upcoming interruption.
“Nall Lord. I can forgive you for not always talking while you are simultaneously completing one million and one errands, so don’t worry how you articulate what’s in your mind. Instead, nigga, oops I mean Lord, my nigga dammit, let me just get to the point. Why you love this nigga?”
“…” the Lord sits with His thumb and index finger pinching his chin like how a guitar holder pinches a guitar neck. He knows my monologue isn’t over.
“…As mentioned before, I admit I am young, gifted, and dusty. Too young to be consistent in well living, too gifted to completely be vulnerable and reliant on you, and too dusty because not all of this dust was by your design. This authentic self is my offering, yet you love and say, ‘Come closer.'”
“…You have an authentic self and you are aware of it. That you would offer me that is the expression of your love. At last, you have arrived,” God says and then nods.
“Your authentic self siphons my love,” God confesses.