God.

It was my turn to play God. Kissing my old life goodbye, I listened to the flat line of a once beeping machine, letting everyone know I was finally gone. I’d dreamt of this the night before. An angel came to me, wearing nothing remarkable and without wings. “You look just like me.” I remember saying. “We are the same.” They said. “It’s time.” It was my turn to play God. Every death, every birth, every miracle and natural disaster would all be up to me. Every type of good fortune and string of bad luck. Every curse and every prayer would find its way to me and it would be up to me to decide what to do with it all. I’m not special. I wasn’t chosen for any specific reason. We all take our turn as God when we die. It’s happening all the time. Why do you think things seem so chaotic sometimes? Hundreds of thousands trying to play God at once sometimes. A warm day in December in the Midwest or snow in April. A car accident. A lottery winner. A brand new baby. A lost sister. Am I in the mood for sunshine today or do I feel more like rain? The weather and whether or not you’ll live to see tomorrow are decisions all left to me. I’m God now. We all just take our turns. And then, like the recycled energy we are, we come back. Just not as ourselves. Not as our old selves, anyway. We take our turns as God and then we are reborn. Recycled energy.

I sent the butterfly over to the woman asking for a sign from her grandmother. I might’ve also been that butterfly. All life shares the same energy. All Gods come from the same places. We leave our memories behind. We start over. A few unanswered prayers and a couple of miracles later. I take my turn as God and when I’m done, I’ll be back as someone new. There really are no rules. I’ll answer yes and no questions with rain water or stars. But I’ll have no answers to questions about how I chose this life over that one. I couldn’t tell you. The way a random act of kindness from a stranger ends up paying for your coffee or the way that jerk just cut you off in traffic doesn’t really go beyond being whatever someone felt like doing in the moment. It’s the same way this God punishes while that God promises love and eternal life. I’d like to think I’d be a good God. I won’t give babies cancer or watch poor families starve. I won’t allow billionaires. That’s it. I just won’t allow them. I won’t be mean or angry. I’ll try not to be mean or angry. I’ll try to be fair. Everyone will be allowed “x” amount of blessings. No one will be blind, sick or thirsty. No one will feel empty or afraid. I’ll be a good God. I can’t speak for who’s in charge when I come back. If they’ll be kind, if they’ll allow me to be born to a loving family this time or if I’ll suffer the same abuse I did in this life. Who knows? I know everything can’t be perfect. I guess I would have to end some lives so new ones could be born. New Gods. Whether or not you'll live a long life or be stillburn, we will all get a turn. The angel in my dreams who looked like me let me know that it was mine.