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Do you think it odd that your God never acknowledges you? Is that rude?
Do you think it odd that your God never acknowledges you? Is that rude?
We all have a God. I say that in the broader sense of the word, as God is an ideal you have created for yourself. From atheism to fundamental, you will, in that sense, have a God/Ideal, be God your God natural or supernatural.
God/ideals can only be exhibited or expressed through a person.
We all give plenty to our Gods and their human mouth pieces, --- mostly false prophets if the bible speaks the truth, --- yet God never acknowledges what you do for him or her.
I, as a Gnostic Christian clergy, self-appointed (as is fit), has been acknowledged and do not include myself in the “you” of the opening question.
Why does God not acknowledge all but the few?  
Why are you, of the supernatural God type, a cash cow and devoted slave to what amounts to a deadbeat parent and absentee God and his less than moral religion thanks to lying clergy?
You love God but the lack of acknowledgement from God shows that God does not love you back. That means that it is not a true love. This is in accordance to the standard that Jesus set. It is a shame that the Jesus followers, Christians and Muslims, will not do as he bids them do, as was the Jewish tradition of archetypal prophets, and elect a new God that might return your love.
Can you forgive a rude God?
No, I don't think it's rude or odd.

"Gnostic Christian clergy" is a joke. So much oxymoron, it isn't even surprising that you are "self-appointed". Likely, you're "self-annointed" and "self-important", with a side of delusions of intellectual grandeur, but who am I to talk?

My God doesn't just acknowledge all but the few, so that's not applicable.

I'm not any of that which you listed.

You're horrid logic astounds me, yet again, on the love bit.

And yes, I can forgive a rude God.

Now, lets follow the link and see if it has ANYTHING to do with what you just posted!

NOPE! xD HAHAHA that is just par for the course there, Gnostic. Keep it up. You've got a small, infamous following from my T.A.'d logic courses!
Somehow, I feel a parable coming on…   Icontexto-emoticons-04-032x032
I remember one day, when I was a wee little lass of maybe 8, that my 7 year old brother was showing off and ended up riding his bike into mine.  Be both went tumbling, both started crying like nobody’s business… and our parents came running out to see what was wrong.  My mum picked up my brother and, with soft kindly words, carried him inside.  My pa stood his bike upright and wheeled it into the garage.  I was left, scraped knee and elbow, to put my own bike away.

When I was 17, my first love dumped me.  I was shattered.  This girl meant the world to me.  Tall and exotic… Japanese, incidentally… soooo beautiful and soooo intelligent.  She’s the one who sparked my interest in philosophy, incidentally.  So, when she told me she was leaving me… for a guy, no less… I just wanted to die.

I remember the date even, because it was my brother/sister’s birthday.  They were turning 16 and I totally feel bad for my li’l bro ‘cos he completely got shafted with the joint ‘Sweet 16’ party theme.  Anyways, I get dumped and dejectedly walk home to the party and my mum asks me why I look so glum.  I tell her what just happened, I beg her even to let me just go to my room and cry for like a thousand years and she gets this absent look in her eyes for a moment, then says ‘This is an important day for yr sister.  We should get back to the party.’  So, I dry my eyes, put on a happy face and drink lemonade for the rest of the afternoon.

I’m not saying I broke into my parent’s liquor cabinet or anything.  But if you ever need a lock picked…

When I was… say, 30 or so… I got a great job.  I was banking dollars, I had responsibilities and could pretty much do as I chose, so long as things at work were settled.  Honestly, who could ask for more?  Then, a few years later, I got ‘downsized.’  They gave me some line about a Republican legislature cutting budgets for non-essential services… you know, anything relating to women or kids and all… but life is what it is.  

My life collapsed around me.  I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t move… it got to the point where I couldn’t even sleep, because that’s all I did.  Honestly, if suicide wasn’t a big no-no for Christians, I believe I would have bin at that point.

I called my mum one day, to tell her what happened.  It took a while, shamed as I was and not wanting to admit I had gotten fired.  She brushed me off.  Turns out, it was my parent’s 40th anniversary and my pa had made elaborate plans and they were walking out the door.  She gave me some kind of bullpucky about how 'we'll talk tomorrow' and all but, I didn't call the next day.  It took me a week to build up the courage to call her in the first place.  The moment had come and passed.

That was a couple years back.  I’m doing fine now… working with kids again, but teens this time and the next time someone talks to you about ‘spoiled teenagers’ just come to me and I will tell you stories about the most amazing acts of kindness and generosity…

Er, sorry.  Tangent.  I’m currently working with young adults and writing books for kids and have an awesome woman with curves in all the right places, including her thought processes… and my mum is buying me lunch.  We’re talking about the old days and my twin siblings and I’m feeling a bit open… I blame the mid-day wine indulgence… so I ask her about that ‘Sweet 16’ party and why she didn’t care how hurt I was.

Apparently, all these years of taking, at best, second place to others in my mum’s eyes had bin eating at me.  Again, I blame the atypical afternoon Riesling.

At first, she was taken aback.  Then, she calmly replied, ‘Yr sister needed me.  You know she was never all that popular at school.  That day was all about her.  T_____ needed that boost for her self-esteem.’

‘Well, what about the time J____ ran his bike into mine?  You babied him and soothed and father even put his bike away.’ I asked.  ‘I had to pull myself up and put my own bike in the garage.’

My mum smiled... a genuine, loving smile... and said, ‘And, as I recall, you did.  An hour later, you had bandaged yrself up and was playing video games.  Imagine how proud I was."

I have to admit, I was getting a bit irked at what, at the time, I felt was her smugness.  I mean, all these years, I had felt the less loved child.  And, time of day be damned, waiter… another Riesling!  Make it two!

‘But… that day, yr anniversary… I was contemplating… I mean, not really, but…’

I can still hear the soft hush she gave me, and feel the gentle touch she gave my hand.

‘Dearie, yr father needed that day.  He’s a man of tradition.  I knew you were in pain.  I could hear it in yr voice.  But I also knew you would find yr way through, whatever it was you were facing.  You’re one of the strong ones.  Not everyone is.  Your brother, your sister, your father… they sometimes need me.’

‘I need you. too.’  I shouted.  Not literally.  It was more of a whimper.  Still, it felt like a shout.

‘No, you don’t.  You just want me.  And that’s ok, I want you too.  But I also want you to realize yr potential.  Just look at you… totally independent, with a meaningful job and a loving partner… you achieved that, all on yr own.  Without my help or guidance.  But yr brother, yr sister… even yr father… they need me, at times.  And, with just a little attention, they’re doing just fine too.’

Now, I’d like to say I understood the wisdom of my mum immediately, but… well, there’s this thing about alcohol.  It clouds yr thinking.  But when I think about it now… yeah, my sister was not happy, back in the day.  She bears the cutting scars to prove it.  My baby brother, he’s all kinds of show, but at the end of the day… a total sweetheart and totally a mama’s boy.  And my pa?  I love him to death, but he’s old school (insert random Central European country.)  Tradition means everything to him.  If my mum hadn’t allowed him the celebration he planned for her, he would have felt less a man, like he had failed her.

And me?  I'm doing just fine...

End of parable.

I disagree with the idea that my God(dess) is, in any way, absent.  At the same time, neither does She fawn over me, as if I were a helpless babe.  She trusts me, She respects me and, when the chips are down… and I don’t mean a skinned knee or broken heart… but those times I’ve actually needed Her… She has always bin there.  End of story.

I do give you props for the restrained way in which you posed the query.  Try as I might, I was... in no way... insulted or offended.  Total thumbs up on that...   

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(07-19-2018, 08:09 PM)KaelisRa Wrote: No, I don't think it's rude or odd.

Then you have poor manners as one should always acknowledge gifts, works and deeds.

Total thumbs up on that...   

Thanks for this.

It occurs to me that some people out there might not want to read my lengthy parable.  Think of it this way.  Raising one child as a single parent can be challenging.  When it gets to the level of, say, three or four… exhausting.  Any more, and… well, yr gonna have to prioritize.  The toddlers will take preference over the children.  The older kids will share in some of the ‘parenting’ responsibilities, like preparing meals and what not.  The teens might even have to get jobs and babysit, drop the li’l ones off at daycare.

Now, in this analogy, where God(ess) is a single parent to 7 billion children, most of us are the toddlers and children.  The people who devote their lives to others… the social workers and police officers, doctors and nurses… those are the older kids, who look out for the younger ones.  And the Rabbi’s and Imam’s, the people who devote their lives to charitable work, those are the teens who help provide for the rest of us.

It’s not a perfect analogy.  There’s the whole ‘If God(ess) is all powerful and, at the same time, all good… why do natural disasters kill people?’ thing.  And, I can actually argue against any point in that matter.  Maybe God(ess) is not all powerful.  Maybe (S)He isn’t all Good.  There’s no reason why that would take away from the position.  Just our limited, child-like understanding of what it means to be God(ess.)  Heck, when I was six years old, I thought my parents knew everything, could do anything, could make everything better… regardless of the circumstance.  When we grow, we learn better.

Mayhaps, as adults, we should take another look at what exactly we have a right to expect from our Heavenly parent.  And, when that parent comes up lacking at times?  Maybe that’s ok.

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The few are full of crap.
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I enjoy reading your parables xD The only problem is not having time to ever reply to them. Mind you, I never really need to reply to them, because they tend to be pretty bang-on at times.
Parables do not require a response.  By definition, they are left open to interpretation.  What insights you may or may not gain from them, it’s totally cools.  

That being said, I'm glad you enjoyed it K-Ra.  That was my first extemporaneous parable.  I usually write a more direct route.  It's nice to know I didn't make a fool of myself...

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