I saw Him once -- standing in the check-out line at the health food store. He was barefoot ... and kinda dusty. But it was Him, alright. He had on this robe, and He was real quiet. I was just this close to Him; I probably could have touched Him if I'd wanted to. He needed a bath, I think. Just standing there barefoot with His granola -- I couldn't believe it. God ...
I used to see Him in all of those old movies -- you know, the ones where He's standing on some mountaintop in the middle of a thunderstorm, and the wind's blowing His hair all over the place; and then this light comes down out of the sky and shines on Him. And there are all kinds of people standing around, but the light just shines on Him and nobody else. And all the people go, "Oooh ..." and "Aaah ..." and get down on their knees and bow their heads. And it's dark, and raining and thundering, and the wind's blowing, and there's a terrible racket. And God looks up at the sky. And the people look up at Him. And it's all so moving and meaningful.
And then you see a closeup of some woman's face; and she's looking at God, and she's ooohing and aaahing. Then there's a closeup of God's face; and He's still looking at the sky, with the light shining in His eyes and the rain blowing on Him. And He looks like He needs a shave; a bath probably wouldn't hurt Him, either -- but I suppose He has more important things to think about.
I mean, He was just standing there in front of me, like some ordinary Joe. And nobody even seemed to notice Him! But I knew. He wasn't fooling me -- I knew it was Him.
I felt like I should at least ask Him for His autograph or something. But then I figured He probably had some reason for being so quiet -- like maybe he was incognito. So, I let Him go. And He just paid for His granola (imagine that ... God paying for something -- not that He couldn't afford it, I mean, but ...), and He walked right out. I watched Him. He got into His Volkswagen and drove away.