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I played God as a child.
At first, it was with the ridged bodies of earth worms, wriggling in the sun-kissed dirt as I clasped my pale fingers around their translucent bodies.
I had heard from my father, that worms had five hearts. I thought then, that they could be split into five separate beings, each with their own heart. I did not understand the worm needed all five.
Does God not understand what we need the same way I didn’t?
Is that then, why he grew easily frustrated, ruining his projects with floods and plagues?
I would learn about him in Sunday school, I was taught that he loved all the children on earth, but then taught he often killed them as examples.
When I learned of the first born sons in Egypt, I remember wanting to cry. Were they not children too? Were they not some mother’s pride and joy. He took one of her hearts, and did not understand she needed them all. It was unfair, in my opinion, they were boys. I wondered if they had games they liked to play, I wondered if they had foods they loved and hated, were they night or day people? Who was their best friend? Who was their favourite person? What did they do all day? Did they like their jobs? Did they like their school? Weren't they kids too?