How God

“I don’t know how to believe in you.” The words hang sullen in the air between us. A bowed head lifts to see a face of mirth. Surprised at shining eyes that hold no condemnation.

“Child, I made you. How could you ever conceive that? It is far beyond you, and to try would be to think yourself a god.” They chuckled now. “Then you would not know how to believe in yourself.”