I was all set to bolt – but it happened yet again: the eyes of God were bearing down on me.
Once again, as manifests all too often, I recognized that the issue is never whether I can get away with it, but whether I could get away with it, escaping those ever-present piercing eyes.
In the darkness of the night, with Ava, our 5-year old Samoyed, doing her business, it struck me that it was like this intrusive Google satellite dish providing some divine transmission service making sure that a very busy God didn’t lose sight of what I was about to do that night.
Do I simply allow her to do what she does and shuffle off in the darkness, or stay to bag it, even though nobody would see me — at least one way or another?
It was kind of like a cross between a bad episode of Lost and The Confessions of St. Augustine.
Needless to say, Ava did her duty.
And so did I. After which I scurried home and dictated this blog.
The eyes of God are far reaching indeed – apparently as far as Ava roams.