Why You Make God Smile (despite your faults and weaknesses) Vol 1: Preface
There is an easy way to tell that you have reached your old age. When holding
an ice-cream that’s nesting on top of a cone wafer, what is the first thing you
do? If you sink your teeth in, leaving a moon-shape dent where it was once
rounded and smooth, you’re officially old.
As a child, I could never understand why adults did that. How could someone prefer
to shove a large dollop into their mouth instead of gliding their tongue slowly around the icy dome?
How could they gulp it down instead of letting the creamy delight drift
like a stream, past the lips onto eager tastebuds? Why would anyone not want to
take the time to enjoy the cold sweetness as it trickled down their parched throat?
The latter method forces the eyes to close for two seconds while one silently thanks God for creating cows.
My curiosity over this apparent grown-up gluttony would turn to anger when my
own personal ice-cream was the target. An adult would demand, “Let me have a
lick.” And I would have to oblige, so not to appear selfish. But I knew all along that
they were lying. Adults never, ever lick. They bite. Deep chunks would be snatched
from my prize possession like a hungry shark when it’s spotted a limb that has
travelled out too far.
The offender would then add insult to injury by taunting me with unnecessary jibes
pertaining to their dissatisfaction that: the nuts are stuck in their teeth, the
chocolate chips are soapy, the mint flavour isn’t strong enough, the strawberry
pieces are soggy, the toffee is too sweet, it’s not Cream of Cornish.
I would stare forlornly at my wounded dessert knowing that enjoyment of it would
never be the same since being butchered by a fully-grown person who lied about
their intentions towards my treat.
Patches of red lipstick would sometimes be seen dotted around the rim of the cone.
On days I dared to give it further scrutiny, I would occasionally spot a tiny blob of
clear elasticated fluid sitting on the top of my chocolate flake, reminiscent of what’s
commonly known as saliva.
I thought the ‘ice-cream felony’ was the worst misdemeanour that could ever happen to my reluctantly shared titbits – that was until one day, an adult asked me for a lick of my ice-lolly. I knew that by the time I would receive it back, it would look like a deformed lump on a stick, but nothing prepared me for the horror that was to come. Yes, they did indeed take a chunk out of it with their teeth, but it had also been sucked! Like Dracula himself, this wicked person had sucked my lolly so hard, that the top 2 inches had turned white. Having been drained of all its colour, I was left with a tasteless piece of pitted ice. Lollies were supposed to be coloured, and in my case, red! Anger prevailed and my juvenile brain decided there and then that nobody was ever going to share any type of food of mine again.
When we finally become adults ourselves, there is a nasty shock. People are still deceiving us and taking great big chunks out of the things we treasure; only now the gaping holes are in our dignity, our hopes, our finances, our self-esteem, our time, our happiness. They are also trying to suck us dry with negativity, mistruths about life, false stories, inappropriate entertainment and unfounded fears.
This book is dedicated to all those who are wanting to reconnect with the reason we are alive. Jesus did not promise a life without pain, but he did promise to walk closely with us through all the disappointments that come our way.
I have put together some short, true stories and rhyming reflections (I dislike the word ‘poems’) to help remind you that he is beckoning you to come and see all the good he is doing right now. He wants to be part of your life and to make you into the person he created you to be.
If you like fluffy-puffy poetry about trees, birds and cascading waterfalls, this book is not for you. If you are easily offended about topics such as sins, death and Hell, this book is for you, but you will hotly disagree with me about that. I would suggest in these cases, that you either use the pages to make origami shapes or demand a refund from Amazon. If, however, this book was a gift and the giver is at some stage going to ask you if you’ve read it…tough. I’m not helping you with that one.
