God Does Wear Pajamas

God does wear pajamas, you know? I saw him in a dream the other night, sitting regally upon his cloud studded throne, dressed in fine silks that bore the images of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. He congratulated me.


He said, “Zoey. I am proud of you. For you have done what has long gnawed at the depths of your psyche. You have accomplished the great transmutation of your wild, destructive passions. Now before you, and within you, lies a new purpose. One filled with promise. With abundance. And, of course, my greatest offering to thee: Inspiration. For you have been given a most precious gift: the Gift of Languages.

“And with the help of your life’s experiences, your trials and tribulations, your heart aches and heart breaks, and perhaps most of all your anxious grappling with the awful mystery of the human identity, you shall give unto the world new worlds, fantastic worlds, ideas long overdue for the ethos of humankind.

“Congratulations, Zoey. For you have completed the first phase of your long, tenuous journey. Soon Saturn shall return to finalize your debts with Karma. And you will emerge stronger, wiser, transformed for the better.

“I know that it hurts from time to time, that even the most well-healed wound still bleeds on occasion. But that is also a gift, which in time you will come to realize. And you will be filled with gratitude. And you will see that it is good.

“I understand that you love deeply. That for you, my child, Love is an overwhelming force–one that draws your inner terrors to the light; that forces you to reconcile with all that you’ve denied of yourself. But the journey forward, in reality, is a journey inward.

“I am so so proud of you. For all that you have undertaken. For coming back to your passions. For rediscovering what truly matters in the home of your heart. For taking your invisible forces, your unconscious mechanisms, and turning them into art. Into your true power.

“I know this has been a difficult year for you. A hard road indeed. But this was always part of the plan. You signed up for this. I’ve got the paperwork to prove it. But don’t make me go rummaging through my office. It’s Christmas time, and my secretary has been bombarding me with prayers for weeks now. So just trust me. Trust that you agreed to all this.

“And most importantly, don’t worry about her. She’s one of my stronger children. You of all people should know she can handle herself. More than capable, that girl is. Why else would you love her so? Just relax, kid. All is well in the Land of Wishes and Dreams. Don’t you know, she has agreed to a journey of her own? Trials and tribulations of her own. And you shall know nothing of them. Nothing of the details. Nothing of her thoughts, fantasies, and fears. No, you shall go on living your own life. Holding space for her in your own heart. And how thoughtful of you. How tender.

“And you will let go. Continually. Each day. Until you’re light enough to ascend. That has been the goal all along, don’t you know?

“And by the way, do you like my pajamas? Jesus gave them to me as an early thank you, for bringing him into the world and what not. A fine son he is. Not to mention he knows how much I love fine silks and the loony toons. Two of my greatest inventions, they are. They left it out of the Book of Genesis but on the Sixth Day, I said, ‘Let there be a cartoon rabbit who calls everyone ‘doc,’ and a talking duck who lives every day in the shadow of the rabbit, but secretly loves him with the utmost sincerity. Let there be a scheming pussy cat with a speech impediment, and a little yellow bird too, who also struggles with basic pronunciations. And let them get into all sorts of silly hijinks.’ And I when I was finished, I looked upon these characters and I saw that they were good. Bet they don’t teach that in Sunday School.

“Anyways, I’ve got to be going. Vishnu, Joseph Smith, and I are due at the golf course in fifteen minutes. And I’ve got to practice my short game. I’m sick of losing to Vishnu. He’s got four arms, for my sake! You’d think that’d put him at a disadvantage, but no!

“But remember, Zoey: THE GIFT OF LANGUAGES. Use it wisely. I’ll be watching closely. Though not too closely. I know how you value your solitude.”

And all I could say was, “Thanks God. I do love your pajamas. But I love your Space Jam slippers more.”

3 thoughts on “God Does Wear Pajamas

  1. I have said it more than once, Zoey, and I’ll say it again. You keep growing and growing as an individual and as a writer. I’m proud to call you my granddaughter.


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