Parable

Once, long ago, there was nothing on earth but clay — lifeless, breathless, a pure canvas, a new instrument. God painted it with bright colors, played the melody of life, lit up the space, breathed life with the vivifying Spirit. And that life began to flourish, to gain consciousness, thoughts, actions… And life grew proud of its Creator.
Why?
Because it forgot who had made it. Because it hurried forward somewhere, hoping that ahead there awaited even greater power and glory.
But when it reached that forward place, it met silence, lifeless clay and darkness.
Those gifts God gave are recalled only in moments of emptiness, of darkness, and of total deafness, when the whole world becomes wearisome and one longs to find a way out.
When you remember yourself, do not recall the lifelessness of what you once were, but remember for whom the Creator played the melody of life, who painted everything with bright colors, who illumined you with his light, and who breathed life into you through his Spirit.
Remember yourselves as God sees you — happy, filled with goodness, love, inspiration, joy, smiles.
How often do you say “Thank you,” how often do you remember the One who gave you all the blessings of life, life itself?
So that you may feel it, so that you may understand it, discern in it that intricate composition, that elaborate story, that wondrous pattern created by the Creator himself.