I GODLY

There was a Movie Called I ROBOT.

I decided to write a story, I GODLY.

I GODLY

The old wooden porch swing, a steadfast companion through countless dusks, emitted its familiar, comforting creak beneath Loup. It was a sound as elemental to his evenings as the cicadas' chorus or the distant sigh of the wind through the towering pines. Tonight, the heavens performed a masterpiece. The sun, a colossal orb of molten gold, bled its vibrant light across the western sky, painting clouds in audacious strokes of tangerine, crimson, and the softest lavender.

Each passing minute shifted the palette, a transient, breathtaking display that reaffirmed his core belief. GOD's signature, he often thought, a daily, undeniable testament to divine artistry, freely offered to every soul who possessed the grace to simply pause and truly see.

He found no need for the hushed, echoing grandeur of cathedrals, nor the booming, resonant chords of pipe organs, to feel the sacred. For Loup, faith was not a construct of mortar and stone, nor a meticulously bound compendium of doctrines sifted and re-sifted by human hands through millennia. His faith was a raw, vital, living entity, intricately woven into the very fabric of his being, as inseparable as the rhythm of his own heart. GOD was not some distant, stern patriarch to be feared and appeased from afar. No, GOD was his Father, a bedrock of unwavering love, infinite patience, and profound wisdom.

More intimately still, GOD was his truest best friend, the silent, ever-present confidant who knew the unspoken intricacies of his soul, the fears that gnawed in the dark, and the secret, soaring hopes that lifted him. It was a relationship forged not in obligation, but in mutual understanding, profound trust, and an unyielding, personal devotion. This communion was the very pulse of his existence, a source of strength that never faltered.

Another day, Father, Loup murmured, his voice a low, resonant whisper that seemed to melt into the gathering twilight. He was not addressing empty air or a philosophical concept; he was speaking directly to the Be-All and End-All of his universe. Each dawn held a fresh promise, each shadowed valley presented a profound lesson, and every single breath was a sacred, deliberate gift from the One in whom he placed his absolute, unshakeable trust.

In a world perpetually characterized by its fleeting nature, by shifting alliances, ephemeral trends, and brittle loyalties. GOD remained his immutable anchor, his unwavering North Star. He found in this relationship a stability that surpassed all earthly understandings.

His journey had not been without its detours. He would observe, with a keen and empathetic eye, the diverse paths others navigated in their search for the divine. He would encounter the grand pronouncements issuing from ornate pulpits, the intricate theological debates that often elevated dogma above empathy, the solemn, pious faces of those who could eloquently preach fire and brimstone while their own hearts remained untouched by genuine compassion.

He would personally witness the subtle, insidious forms of hypocrisy, the false prophets who, like cleverly disguised wolves, twisted sacred texts into instruments for personal gain, rebranding divine truth as a commodity to be bought and sold. He had seen "churches" transformed into corporate entities, their gilded coffers overflowing with the offerings of the devout, while the truly needy, the homeless, the hungry, the forgotten, languished just beyond their polished doors, invisible, dismissed as unworthy of even a fleeting glance or a moment of grace.

He would endure the sting of "prayers" offered with forked tongues, eloquent petitions delivered for public consumption, yet whose private actions revealed a stark, chilling absence of authentic care or divine love.

These experiences, rather than causing him to doubt the divine, had paradoxically deepened and refined his faith. They had not eroded his core belief, but instead had acted as a crucible, burning away the dross of human invention to reveal the pure, incandescent core of his devotion. He had not abandoned GOD, rather, he had simply stepped away from the cumbersome, often corrupt, human-made structures that sought to contain, control, and ultimately commercialize the boundless, ineffable mystery of the divine.

His dedication was to the Creator of the Universe, to the unblemished, untainted source of all light, all life, all genuine love, not to the fallible messengers, nor to their often distorted, self-serving messages.

His true church was the boundless, open expanse of the cosmos, and nature, its depths studded with stars, tress and animals that whispered ancient truths across unimaginable distances. His scripture was not bound in leather, but was alive in the intricate, fragile beauty of a spiderweb glistening with dew, in the fierce, indomitable resilience of a tiny desert flower pushing through cracked earth, in the profound, resonant silence of a mountaintop at dawn, and in the quiet, undeniable wisdom gleaned from moments of deep introspection.

His fellowship was the deep, abiding peace that settled in his very bones whenever he consciously aligned his spirit with the divine will, a peace that transcended understanding and connected him to something infinitely larger than himself. He did not require human intermediaries, elaborate, prescribed rituals, or the validation of any earthly institution to feel that incandescent, electric connection. It simply was, a constant, undeniable presence.

As the last sliver of the sun finally dipped below the horizon, yielding the sky to the first shy stars, Loup slowly closed his eyes. A serene, knowing smile touched his lips, a testament to an inner joy that rarely found expression in words. He was just a man, yes, deeply flawed and imperfect like every other human being, grappling with life's complexities and his own shortcomings.

But he was a GODLY man, dedicated to serving the one and only true GOD. He served not with pomp or showmanship, but with an open heart, a spirit ever ready to listen, and a being finely attuned to the subtle, loving guidance of his Creator. And in that intimate, intensely personal serving, he discovered not merely purpose, but an inexhaustible wellspring of profound joy, an unyielding strength, and the truest, most authentic meaning of his life.

He was home, always and forever, in the embrace of his Father, his Best Friend, his GOD.

With a soft whisper like the evening's cool breeze, over the African Bush, Loup said, I GODLY.......

Composed and Created by
Author, Writer, Novelist, and Poet
Major Marius F Robbertze
AKA MFR ™©®