You’ve heard that God created the world in six days. But I’m telling you it took him a whole hell of a lot longer than that. Think about it. Could God create daffodils and not pause to stare at their beauty? Could he make trout and not take time to learn how to catch them? No, God needed to engage with his creation.
When God created daffodils, he didn’t just move on. He created fields of daffodils. Vast plains. He sprinkled them here and there. He planted them in such strange unexpected places, behind big Oak trees, on grassy banks. It made him smile to think about someone discovering them one day. As he stared at the daffodils he knew they were good. Too good. He couldn’t just leave them. He had to watch them, learn them, get inside them. He needed the flowers to reveal their secrets.
When winter came God wondered if the daffodils would ever return. He walked the Earth scouring the secret spots for green shoots. One unusually warm morning God came to a grassy field in a curve of his favorite river. A large tree grew right up on the bank, its massive roots holding the land together. At the foot of this tree he saw daffodil sprouts poking through the ground. Tiny green fingers reaching toward the sun. They looked so fragile, so delicate. Yet here they were in the wild, surrounded by rugged beauty. He loved these humble little plants.
God loved these tender shoots so much that he lay down in the soft grass and watched them grow, praying that they’d put out flowers. After three days and three nights of watching he was so tired that he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning the sun was just peaking over the ridgeline behind him. Its beams creeping toward the daffodils. The moment the sunlight touched the flowers their petals opened. Yellow, reflecting the warmth of the sun. Blowing kisses to creation. God stared, transfixed. It was worth the wait.
He remained in that field at the river's bend throughout the spring, observing the flowers as they grew. He watched them pop up all around him until he was surrounded. He didn’t leave until the last flower petal turned brown and fell from the bud. Then he cried. There was something so sad about death that he couldn’t quite express. He left the field to continue creation, but he couldn’t fully let go of those flowers. Regularly he came back, watching, waiting. He had the time.He waited through summer, fall, and winter until spring. Then he watched the magic dance of the daffodils all over again.
Year after year this continued until God noticed a longing in his legs for a little more activity. So God created trout and filled the river with them. When he saw them swimming through the river he knew they were good. Too good. So good that he had to get his hands on one of them. Now trout are slippery little fuckers, so God knew he couldn’t just splash in and grab one. No, God had to invent fly fishing.
To go fly fishing, God had to fashion a rod and handle from bamboo and cork, make a line from silk worms, and assemble hooks, thread, feathers, and flies. It all took forever, but God being patient, persisted until he had all the necessary tackle. Once he had everything, he was fired up to start fishing, but like all beginners, he had gotten so excited about the gear that he forgot he didn't know how to fish.
Well, the first time God finally walked out into the river, he flicked his rod back and immediately got snagged in a low hanging mountain laurel. That was when God invented swearing, which is why fishing and swearing go so well together. God splashed over to the bush cussing up a storm. Somehow it’d wound itself and the branches into a gordian knot and God hadn’t brought a spare. He tried repeatedly but couldn't untangle it, and after hours of trying, he gave up.. Angrily he waded out of the river pissed that his first fishing trip had ended before it’d even began.
After all that God needed a way to chill out. So, God invented smoking. It took a while to get the tobacco right. The first few tries tasted awful. He also had to invent corn to make himself a corncob pipe. If God was going to smoke, it had to be a pipe. Finally God had his pipe and his tobacco. He climbed up to the top of the ridge overlooking the bend in the river and sat down for a smoke. From up on the ridge the river looked even more beautiful. The daffodils were just saying goodbye to the sun as it set behind the ridgeline. The trout were catching mayflies off the river top. God knew it was going to be a perfect evening.
When God lit his pipe that’s exactly how it was, perfect, for about ten seconds. Then the pipe went out. Now God was even more pissed. He couldn’t keep the damn thing lit. He either sucked too hard and coughed smoke, or not enough and the pipe went out. Every fish that jumped from the river seemed to be laughing at him. Around this time if it hadn’t been for the daffodils and the swearing God would have given up on the whole creation idea. It was just too damn hard. But God couldn’t burn up the daffodils, and couldn’t kick the urge to catch one of those little shits. So he stuck with it.
Finally, after weeks of trying God caught his first trout, a rainbow trout. Just a little 7" but it put up a good fight. He caught it on an Elk Hair Caddis fly that he floated by a log. He was so proud of his catch that he got Jesus to take a picture. The Holy Ghost had been reading up on taxidermy and mounted the fish for him. God took the picture, the fly, and the fish and set them all up on his wall as a reminder to not destroy the world when he got mad. Then like any good Dad he decided to teach his son how to fish.
Now Jesus, he was a natural fisherman. The first time he hit the water it was like the rod and line were just extensions of his body. His lines were tight and his loops were perfect. His skillfully cast flies floated downstream with such perfection that the trout had no choice but to bite. God was proud, but also jealous. He’d had to work so hard. He’d had to invent swearing just to keep up fly fishing and here was Jesus getting it perfect on the first try. Meanwhile God had got hung up in another damn mountain laurel and was using all his favorite words to burn down the bush. He heard laughter and looked over at Jesus who was smiling at him boyishly holding up a big brown trout.
“Dad,” Jesus called out, “Maybe you should leave the fishing to me. I bet I could catch anything. I could catch salmon. I could catch bass. Hell, I could fish for anything.” God rolled his eyes and turned back to his tangled line. Jesus was always saying stuff like that. With a sigh God snipped the leader off the laurel. He might not be perfect at fishing but at least he was learning. This time he’d brought a spare.
Before long he was back at it, throwing clumsy loops and heavily splashing flies. At least It was a gorgeous morning. God was fishing a caddis fly. He'd had a couple of hits but nothing really took the fly. He was beginning to feel a bit distracted. The sun was just beginning to peak over the ridge, and the daffodils were just starting their morning dance. BAM! A trout slammed the fly and took off running downstream. Line flew off his reel as he fought to keep the rod tip up. The fish battled hard and headed for a submerged log.
“Keep him out of there” Jesus yelled encouragingly.
“Shit, shit, shit” God gasped under his breath, fearing the trout would break off his line. For some reason instead of diving down the fish leaped four feet out of the water in a perfect arc. The sun just peaking over the mountaintop glinted off its scales illuminating the reddish dash down its side, a rainbow. A big one. The fish splashed down in the water. God pulled up on the rod and the line went slack. The fish was gone. God’s shoulders dropped. Today would not be the day he landed the big one. He glanced over at Jesus who was still reeling in fish. God gathered up his gear. He’d had enough for today. Trudging slowly out of the river he walked back to the daffodils. Standing there he decided it was time to continue with creation.
So you see if all that was what it took to create daffodils, trout, and tobacco. Three things. Three of the best, most perfect things, but still only three out of a quadrillion. I’m telling you there is no way he did it all in six days. He took his own damn time thank you very much and enjoyed the journey. It wasn’t about getting to some destination, or enacting any master plan. There was just a lot in God that needed to come out, a lot he needed to say and sit in and be still with.
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