It Was a Horrific Sight.
I stumbled across a horrific murder scene the other day I would like to share with you. It makes my stomach churn even writing about it now. I had gone out for a smoke break at work and decided to go explore the empty lot next to work for something new to do. There’s a gravel path through the lot, and I passed by the remnants of a demolished building. The lot has started to grow up with hundreds and hundreds of little trees. Blackberry bushes have started to grow, but its still sparse enough to navigate through if you don’t mind dealing with a few thorns.
About 10 minutes into the walk I looked down and saw my first indication that a tragic event had occurred. This small bit of innards wasn’t enough to really peak my interest, after all – I’m in the woods, who knows what kind of animals call this place home.
But only a few steps later I ran into some real body parts. I want to say that they were arms. I couldn’t be sure, but I did immediately pull out my cell phone. Now, one would think that the first thing one would do when discovering such a scene would be to dial 9-1-1; however, I pulled up my camera app and began taking photos of my findings.
As I took the first photos of the innards and the arms, I looked up and several feet away was the next major body parts — the legs and torso. I took another photograph and began trying to put together what on earth this could be. My heart raced as I noticed the animal chew marks on the carcass.
What ungodly creature would spend this much time gnawing, but still leave so much behind? There were very few parts actually missing. If I had some glue, or perhaps needle and thread – with some help from God – I could have pieced him back together again.
I followed the path of littered body parts onward and I finally ran into the most important body part. Sitting only a few feet away was his head. While snapping more pictures I could see the lifeless eye staring back at me. One eye had been completely torn off, and he was missing an entire cheek. What was left had a sad expression on his face .
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How you treat people is an important thing that we all need to reflect on, not just from time to time, but always.
Today on NPR I heard a story about a man whose mother had discovered he might possibly be gay, so she drove him to the woods, stood him in front of a tree with a shotgun to his head stated that this was the tree she would take her son to be shot if he decided he was a fag.
Where do things like this come from? Why are there people that are so adamant that love cannot exist between a man and a man, or between two women. If you’ve grown up in the United States and have ever had a best friend, then you already know that this statement cannot be true.
In reality, there should be no limits on love. That’s not to say that those in a statutory rape situation should be allowed to behave however they want, and its certainly not to say that its okay for a stalker to cling to their victim because of love. A mutual love relationship, however, is not something that any person, nor any religion, should seek to destroy.
And that is exactly what the religious zealots do. They seek to destroy a couples ability to express their love for each other. The gay community has it far tougher than any other relationship type and yet, it survives. And there are no signs of it ever going away.
If you’ve ever read my writing, you understand that while I believe in a lot of the core values of Christianity, I have a lot of problems with the Dogma and hypocrisy of nearly every Christian I have ever met. I was taught by my father to question everything, and in hopes of me maintaining my own Christianity, he may have shot himself in the foot.
There were many discussions that involved discussing the laws of the Bible, and it was determined by my church that we were no longer under the Law of the New Testament nor 10 commandments, but rather under one simple law handed to us by Jesus himself. I’ve been witness to many discussions amongst those who call themselves people of the Lord, but who insist that the relationship between those of the same sex is an abomination. And I’m willing to admit that I was one of those people who let myself get brainwashed by believing what I was told without further examination.
Those who decided to gossip about the sexual preferences of a friend behind their back made me take a look at why I’d held the belief that it was wrong. Was it really wrong?
We need to take a look at WHY we feel the things we do. We need to take a look at WHY we think the things that we do, and behave the way that we do. Do you believe TRULY that a homosexual has no chance of going to heaven? Do you REALLY believe that making their life on Earth here completely miserable is what God has called you to do? Because it’s not.
John 13:34-35
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. 35 By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”
Senator Shortey – OK, You’re CRAZY. Embryos in Food??!
Crazy. Not a term one should use lightly, I’m told. That doesn’t stop it from being a regular part of this 80′s kid’s vocabulary. However, in this case there really is no other fitting word.
CRAZY.
I was reading through the website of Komo4News.com when stumbled across an article titled:
“Okla. senator wants ban on human fetuses in food”
Yeah. You read it twice, didn’t you. I did. Then I read it again REALLY slowly — just to be sure I read it right. I did. You did, too.
I’m shamed to admit this man is a Republican. Oklahoma, get this boy out of the office.
A Republican state senator from Oklahoma City introduced a bill Tuesday that would ban the use of aborted human fetuses in food, despite conceding that he’s unaware of any company using such a practice
Of ALL THE IDIOTIC THINGS I HAVE READ, HEARD, or SEEN TODAY [and I watched the 2012 State of the Union Address by President Obama], this is by FAR the dumbest thing I’ve read in 2012.
Oh, and it gets better:
He also offered an amendment to a bill that would have allowed legislators to carry firearms anywhere in the state, including the floor of the House and Senate.
AND (Yeah. There’s MORE):
This year, Shortey has introduced a bill seeking a public vote on amending the Oklahoma Constitution to abolish the Court of Criminal Appeals.
I have decided to do a little research on this boy. Clearly to be this ignorant, or feel such trivial matters are worth consideration you must have reached the age of senility.
WHAT?! REALLY!!?
Well, then maybe this man knows what he’s talking about. Maybe he’s just ahead of his time in thought processes.
Damn It, Oklahoma!!
I was hoping that right now I’d go to Senator Shortey’s website to see that maybe there was more to this man than meets the eye. Seriously, I was looking for SOME redemtion for the man {maybe learn that they just didn’t put anything in the “Education” field yet). Instead, I was greeted with a poorly designed website and the hope that with my webskills and carnal internet knowledge I could go in to District 44 and run for his Senate Seat and WIN! Because clearly these people are uneducated idiots:
I hear crickets.
What does this man stand for? I have no idea. Apparently he was
First elected in 2010 to a heavily Hispanic district on the city’s south side, Shortey has grabbed headlines with other bills he’s introduced that have not become law. He sponsored a measure last year to crack down on illegal immigrants by authorizing law enforcement to seize their homes and vehicles, and to deny Oklahoma citizenship to babies born to illegal immigrants.
Awesome job. A Hispanic area elected him, and then he basically said “GET OUT!” – OR he was elected by the non-Hispanics who could vote, and then just created a super hostile living environment for the non-Hispanics vs the Hispanics.
Either way… THIS GUY IS NUTS.
Lil Wicked – Black Belt Song (6 Year Old Song Writer with SKILL)
I feel this video must be shared with the world. Blaze wrote this song, and I think this is one of the best music videos I’ve ever seen. Please — Share it!
The first song and music video from 5 year old writer and recording artist Lil Wicked, created in celebration of him acquiring his black belt in kempo karate. He appears on his dad, Wicked J’s, upcoming album, “Wicked Sic Tape”, coming out early 2012.
Sins of the Flesh
Ever since I got my ears pierced as a little girl I have been confronted by various people asking me why I would want to deface my body — “God has given you such a wonderful gift, modifying it is a disgrace”. I heard this regularly from my late Grandpa Jim, to some very important people in my current life.
Now, if you know me you know that I spent a fair amount of time in the Christian church. I went to Grace Baptist Church, a Bellingham based Baptist-Church, as a young girl, and we stopped sometime before my parents divorced when I was five. I attending a Seventh-Day Adventist church with my step-mother for years, and for third, fourth, and fifth grades I was enrolled at the Bakerview Adventist School. Sometime after 6th grade started I stopped attending church all together and didn’t regain that ground until my freshman year of high school.
In the end, I ended up attending church Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night youth group, plus youth groups at multiple churches – at one point I was attending a church related event nearly every night.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20 New International Version (NIV)
19 Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20 you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.
That is one of the verses that people use against me while discussing my sins of the flesh. Not surprisingly, the people who choose to use these verses (and the other similar verses) to discuss how I’m essentially going to hell for disobeying God cannot see the otherside to the verse.
“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit…” Well, yes. Actually I do. But perhaps you recall this other temple (okay, chapel to be technical):
Yup. The walls of the church are painted and covered with beautiful (ly disturbing that this is on a church/in public) images depicting the life, beliefs and the stories of the church. Not a single one of my tattoos has a lack of meaning or story. In fact, each one is very significant – that it why it has been tattooed on me.
GENESIS 1:31 NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION (NIV)
31 God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.
Here is the one I’ve never understood. God made man, correct? God designed our brains, our thought processes and has allowed us to decide who we are, what we like and has given us a choice about how to live. Every decision I make is based on the guidelines that have been created for us to live within. It is not possible for me to do anything outside of the laws of the Universe — created by God.
No, I’m not justifying a murderers actions, as he or she is also living within the same guidelines, because their actions impede on the existence of another — morally, this is incorrect; however, those who have tattoos and piercings do not impede on your life directly simply by having the tattoos and piercings.
In researching for this blog, I discovered “testimonies” where young people were writing about how much they’d wish the didn’t rush out and get a body piercing or tattoo and that they’d considered it more first. Perhaps that’s the message that we should really teach our children — don’t rush out and do something hasty, but if you really truly have given it thought and are sure this is who you are, and what you want to do with your life after careful consideration — then “I will support you.”
“God saw ALL that He made, and [we are] very good.”
There Once Was A Time When I Was A Girl
Sure, I grew up a tom boy. I preferred football and hockey to discussing soap operas and television or family drama. I liked catching garter snakes (boas and the like are scary, gross and can stay FAR away from me behind glass), mice and newts. I played in the dirt and I couldn’t care less about who did what and why one persons emotions were more important than anothers. I preferred shooting sports to painting my nails or doing my hair. . . but I did keep my nails a plethora of colors, as well as my hair and did attempt to go “above and beyond” the styles my little hick-school was used to — occasionally I would notice I’d start a hairstyle from one of the teen-mags and shortly it was all around the halls. I guess I’ve always had moments where you could see me screaming “Look at me! Please.” And then I’d go back to reading my 20-30 books a week.
Yes, I often wore jeans and t-shirts – but that was for several reasons. I was poor. I felt worthless, ugly, and un-cared for — and was treated as such. School shopping consisted of being able to buy three outfits for the YEAR – which means I needed to base my decisions on what would last, and what wouldn’t be noticed day in day out. Luckily for me, the Internet was new, and free t-shirts were everywhere. My step-mom decided that instead of buying me a real bra that may actually FIT me, I was required to wear her old ones that didn’t fit her – and I can tell you they did NOT fit me. No way my 7th grade body could fit into a C-Cup.
But one of my favorite high school moments was walking down the hall in brand new clothes from one of the hottest shops in the mall [I scored about a grand in cash that Christmas], twisted up hair with each twist painted a different color of hair mascara and being stopped by the hottest guy in our grade and being complemented. “Looking good, Erica”. To this day the thought still makes me melt. I had taken particular care in my outfit and makeup that day. I was glad it was noticed — and years after that I realized just how often I would find this guy staring at my eyes in English class. I still have a nickel he threw at me in Yakima while he was playing basketball.
I owned one Tigger coat – for years it was the only coat I had – and it was just a light jacket. The “best” shopping trip in junior high was when I was able to obtain that absolutely non-exclusive Black and White “CK” t-shirt we all had. My shoes were ratty. It bothered me on occasion that’s all I could wear, but I learned to accept it. Protesting did no good, and it wasn’t worth being sad over.
But, despite all of the terrible clothes I wore I had a boyfriend at 15. One who appreciated, admired and further spurred on my tomboy kick by continuing to encourage my desire to learn more by inquiring and doing things hands on. And I loved him deeply. I trusted him, and was never scared of him. Some nights we fell asleep on the phone, and woke up with our ears on the phone – and continued talking. He was my first date. We went to the theater and saw “Blade” – which was against my normal movie style. My first kiss. My first nearly everything. I was happy, and girly – and when I was with him, I had no family problems or drama. I spent a lot of time thinking about spending the rest of my life with him. When he went into the Marines, I was deeply sad – but I dreamed of the day he’d come back and ask me to marry him. But then, we broke up. And he never chased me like he should have. He never apologized like he should have. And he never saw the honesty in my heart like he should have.
That didn’t stop my planning that he’d come to his senses, and come running back after me. I’d always looked at the bridal magazines (when nobody was looking). As a jeans/t-shirt girl surely nobody would ever picture me in a dress of this magnitude. After all, I wasn’t worth a new prom dress. I got one that was homemade, quickly in a beautiful lavender that was NOTHING like the dark color changing taffeta I wanted. But, as is the theme for my life – I had to settle for what I got and not let the fact that I was disappointed hurt those around me. I’ll take the pain, so they don’t have to.
For several months after high school I bought a new copy of several bridal magazines and thumbed through them with my friends at work. Friends who knew nothing of my tom-boy nature and didn’t realize that the light lavender skirt and the white SUPER short skort I owned (which, btw – 10 years later, I still have and I still wear BOTH of) was completely against my nature.
In my head, I planned an elaborate wedding. I didn’t mind that the groom was nowhere to be found. This was my dream — to be happily married to my best friend working together for the new cars, new house, massive gun collection… entertaining on the weekends, and vacationing with laughter several times a year — and occasionally having the house families arrived to for the holidays.
I can’t remember all the details of the ones I’d planned — but here are elements that stood strongly at 19, and do to this day:
Good wedding planning starts with the dress. I want something sleeveless, slightly A-Line, and it was a not a common concept at the time to have a splash of color on the dress, but I want the bust line to be lined with a deep blood rose red. Such as this:
The overall color scheme is black, light and this same gorgeous red. My bouquet is a simple dozen red roses which match my dress.
It should be a late spring, early summer wedding, taking place outdoors somewhere with either a waterfall nearby, or a gorgeous ocean view [waterfall surrounded by tress preferred - perhaps just at somebodys house].
His tuxedo will be the blackest of blacks – with a black or white undershirt, red vest and red tie. While a white tux would be often, I find it often clashes with the white of the dress.
Rather than the traditional wedding march I’d walk down the aisle confident and glowing that I was walking toward the man I loved whole heartedly to Pachebels Cannon in D, played by a beautiful string quartet:
My high school swing choir would come together to accompany them in singing the words to Canon of Praise that we sang as our choir teacher marched down the aisle, and the words would bring an ease to my nervous stomach:
All within me bless the Lord,
All within me bless his holy name.
Bless the Lord,
O my sould, All within me, bless his holy name.
O bless the Lord, O bless his holy name.
O my soul, All within me, bless his holy name.
Lord, O bless his holy name.
O hear, you righteous
know that the Lord is good. With truth, with hope,
We remember all his love, he crowns with hope, with hope and truth.
God the Lord is gracious, his mercy is the same forever.
The Lord our God same forever–As a father loves his children,
loves, he loves his own, so the Lord loves his own.
Those who know the Lord, they claim his ever present help.
Those who love the Lord shall claim, shall claim his ever present help.
O bless the Lord, O all within me–O my soul–bless his holy name. O bless the Lord, my soul, O bless his holy name.”
The ceremony itself is simple, quick – to the point but with vows custom written. My ring would be nothing but a princess cut – rounds allowed as accents, possibly radiant or similar but NEVER any emerald, marquis or pear cut:
$1,981.99
Although years later I decided with black diamonds because I love what it represents. Preferably three stones with either the outside two being black, or the inside one being black – but not all three. But in all reality – the amount spent on a ring means nothing compared to the actual beauty, the time, effort and the true intent behind the ring. Quoting myself from 2009:
A Black Diamond to me speaks more to what love and a relationship is really about. A Black Diamond is full of little imperfections. It is a hard stone, and because of its imperfections it is difficult to cut or create. One wrong move and it can crack right in half. Remarkable, unique, and beautiful, these imperfections reflect the characteristic distinction of the black diamond. It does not have to “explain” why it is imperfect; it just is–singularly imperfect as a result of being the residual, of the more favored classic white stone.
And tell me this isn’t simply beautiful.
The engagement ring I did get was a major disappointment to me [and while I've technically been married for 3.5 years, the engagement ring was smashed long before the marriage and I never got a wedding ring] – not because it was about $300 (no, i didn’t forget a zero) but because he put next to no thought into it — the metal in the band cut my finger – and he listened to my ex-boyfriends new girlfriend when discussing what to buy. When he was looking at something even a little more pricey she asked if he was sure he wanted to spend that kind of money on me. I guess not. And I’m not sure why she felt the need to tell me that she told him this. If I hadn’t broken her boyfriends heart, they would never have gotten together! But while I was deeply heartbroken, but I didn’t let it show.
There are so many “lower clarity” rings I like better than the perfect ones. I love the imperfections and the way the light can play on them. I love knowing that something so imperfect can still be seen as magnificently beautiful. Like me.
The ceremony itself will be late afternoon, before dark – and as we walked up the aisle as man and wife there’ll be no seeds, no rice, no bubbles… but doves and butterflies would be released.
I dream that the reception afterwards is held in a large tent. Food and early dancing to a mix of the quartet, and a DJ. There’ll be wine and champagne. . . The tables will be large round with candle center pieces. The tent itself will let the night sky shine through, and there will be white and red Christmas lights strung everywhere.
More recently I’ve had dreams of a wedding cruise instead, inexpensive and still blissfully divine – in which all these elements can still be used from the darkly colored roses, to the christmas lights adding a wonderfully enchanting fairy-tale elegance.
Either way it will be a fun adventure for all to enjoy the beautiful night, but other than occasional moments of love and laughter with friends and family – my eyes would be glued only to the handsome man who promised to dance with me forever – and my heart will never forget that I promised to dance with him, too.
First Impressions Are Often A Dishonor Of Self
I realize as I look at the picture of that car from today that at first I found it utterly ridiculous; however, as we got out and examined the moving (or at least what I assume can still move) art more closely I found parts I found repulsive, other parts mind boggling, and still other parts completely amazing. The more I looked through the lens, the more I didn’t want to stop questioning. Who drives it? What possessed them to do this to their vehicle?
While I could/would never even be caught DEAD in a vehicle like this, let alone alive – even as a passenger – I can step outside of my first thoughts and appreciate the time/care/dedication it took the artist to create and design. There’s no way for you and I to know how the person who drives this feels about it on a daily basis, or how they cope with the constant belittling of “friends” who want to make fun of the things that they love and make them happy — or if they even keep such friends around. Its not my job to decide what may or may not make a person happy. Its not my job to tell them what they can and cannot do if it has no negative impact on my life. Thats the beauty of living in a country who has not yet lost her freedom. We have crazy cars with all sorts of crazy things on them. We have crazy girls with all sorts of crazy things glued to them. We have people of all shapes, sizes, colors, with or without tattoos, ink, or piercings…
Does having all of this extra stuff make this car less pleasant to look at? For some, yes. Does it have much effect on the purpose of the vehicle? Well, it looks like it can still drive. It can still hold passengers… I’m again making the assumption that it is a moving vehicle… so yes, this car can still provide value to the lives of its owners. And I’m also going to say that compared to every other vehicle on the road that is painted standard colors it provides more than just a way to move people and things from one place to another. It provides those around it another avenue to stop and:
Smile.
Laugh.
Enjoy.
Contemplate.
Wonder.
Be confused by.
Marvel over.
Like this car, I too have many things that have been added to me to modify my own look. I’m not standard. I’m not just going to get on lifes road and drive beside you unnoticed. I’m going to stop and make you think. I’m going to take the time to learn who you already are and what you already believe, and then challenge you to challenge yourself by letting you consider your own thoughts, views, and values and pushing your own boundaries.
It is far-too common place for the generations before mine to see a tattoo and immediately disregard a persons intelligence. Many times as people who have talked to me have confessed that I am nothing like I appear to be. Ink does not have any effect on a person’s IQ. Being pierced may not be something you would like to do, and while people do not understand why I would voluntarily subject myself to both the pain of a needle punching through my skin and the subsequent humiliation, as they see it, of wearing a noticeable piece of metal in that wound, I do not see it that way.
When you see somebody who looks different than you, from the color of their skin – or colors of their ink, to their hair, their shoes, their clothes… why are you looking at their outward appearance and making a judgement about who they are without actually taking the time to discover if you are correct? Certainly do not talk to every person you find intimidating, scary, or different — because that initial instinct can be correct — but it isn’t always. Just be open to possibilities.
When you find yours thoughts of anothers physical appearance causing you to judge them — can you recognize that this person has no effect on you, or your life? Do they deserve your judgement? Can they see the disapproving look on your face?
When my four-year old was two she decided to wear bright orange pants and a dark purple T-Shirt I attempted to make her change before we left the house. I could see her heart break as she had been so proud to carefully choose her favorite pants AND her favorite shirt to wear them both at the same time. As I explained that her choices were terrible together the tears welled up in her eyes. At that moment, I realized that what she was wearing was not that important if it made her happy, and isn’t going to cause any harm. She was proud of her decision and I nearly took that moment away from her due to my own judgement based on what I had let society teach me.
Like this car, I may not be something you want to see or look at everyday – or be caught dead driving around with, but I serve my purpose and I serve it well. Is this car as great as a Porsche? Yes – but only if you have the eyes and heart that are willing to see it. To look at me and disregard me immediately is like denying yourself the opportunity to help ensure that the infamous dream of MLK had of not being judged by first impression, but rather by content of character. To make his dream a reality, we must all be seen as equal, and we must all seek to see equally.
Limiting God
I’m not entirely sure how to write this, but I never run short of words when it comes to discussing a Supreme Being. My only hope is that I can contain my thoughts in a few short pages. Often I discover my own thoughts through writing, and I do not edit my thoughts as I write. I will write until I’m complete – and review once to ensure the fluidity of my ideas can be understood.
One of the things I’ve struggled with most when contemplating the existence or non-existence of a God is the fact that even defined in the sense of theism each religion has a separate view of what that “God” would look like. This makes debating such an existence to be a never-ending plague of difficulties. First we need to define what our view of a theistic God would be. The arguments by Anselm and Kant both seem to show that by defining God we are essentially setting limits on a being that is designed to have no [true set of] limits. By this definition I’d like to point out that setting a limitation like “Can God create a rock too heavy for himself to lift” is indeed not a limit as it is a theoretical paradox that cannot exist – perhaps by discovering the limits that cannot exist we can then ascertain the limits that do exist.
What would “God” look like? I’m using the definition of theism to represent an entity consisting of “one unit” that ultimately controls everything. The trouble with this definition of God is that many people who are surface level, or even literal thinkers view God as a specific object that can be considered tangible on some level or dimension; however, if God created the Universe and all that exists in it, then God itself must exist outside of existence. Once again, we enter the paradoxical world. Perhaps if we change that sentence around a bit I can clear it up. That is, God itself must BE outside of existence.
“Je pense, donc je suis”. We live inside of existence. Aside from the occasional “Matrix” moment, I can relate to Descartes “I think, therefore I am” statement. Defining God is not nearly as easy. It logically cannot be “I think there is a God, therefore there is”. Those who are colorblind view the world in different color than the rest of us, but that doesn’t make the sky brown.
Its stated in our text that ” …even the fool must admit that something than which nothing greater can be thoughts exists at least in his understanding”. From a psychological self-perspective, this thought that something so great that “nothing greater can exist” feels almost like an absence of thought. To hold tight to a definition in my own mind sets limitations; however, releasing those limitations to “view” my thought of what the possibility of God is like a brief moment where I have no awareness of self-existence and only an overwhelming sense of awe.
“But that is clearly impossible” (p4). I must have read the statement previous to this about 15 times trying to make sense if it before I discovered this sentence. It was a tremendous relief when I did, but it furthered my thinking . . . in my notes I wrote “Does God exist as a goldfish?” I had to think for a second what I meant by that as I didn’t clarify in my notes – but what I mean by it is what sort of tangibility does one equate the existence of God? If one supposes a tangible God than proof must exist in tangible fashion; however, if we suppose that God is not tangible than the proof is also not tangible… and thus continues the Great Philosophical Debate.
I’d also like to bring up the use of the Bible as a text to use as an aid to define and prove God. Logically, I do not see that using a text that has no proof of its own accord can count as proof of anything. I can read and quote Mother Goose all day long, but that doesn’t prove that the cow indeed jumped over the moon. Without proof or description to what “inspired by God” may mean, there is nothing to differentiate the biblical text as inspired by God versus my writing here. An ever present God would indeed be part of any work by myself, or by any other person.
I love that all of my random interests, from flying [planes] to physics, meta-physics, philosophy, quantum mechanics, logic and the law all are very much related [the flying being the least related]. Reading through page 6 in our text and discussing the “impossibility of an ontological proof” brings me consistently back to Schrodinger’s Cat. The cat is both alive and dead at the same time – but the viewing of the cat is what decides which the reality is. In our minds, both concepts can occur at the same time; however, in our 4th dimensional reality, only one can occur at a time. Every possibility exists, and it is the viewing of such possibility that makes it reality. Perhaps if we were given the gift of existing in dimensions outside our normal realm we could better perceive the cat in its living deceased state, and the same could be true in our viewing of a Being classified as omnipotent and omnipresent.
Limiting ourselves to the concept that God is a “being” limits our ability to accurately perceive God.
