God Chose Me and Not You

God phoned me up just a minute ago, which freaked me out. I didn’t expect it, obviously. But there He/She/It, the I AM was, on the phone.

The voice was something I can’t quite put words to. Still and small doesn’t really describe it. It was like the voice was plugged into every fiber of my body and I was resonating with the voice in my tongue, not just my ears and in my toes and eyes, and in my very center. Awesome would not describe this adequately.

Yet this indescribable voice was somehow familiar, colloquial, like an old friend. What God had to say was stunning. Some may dispute my testimony, which is fine with me. But the phone did ring and I picked it up. And this is the conversation God and I had:


“Hi, howz it going?”

“Good… who is this?”

“Umm… you should know.”

“Wow… I feel like I do. I have this strange feeling, but I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be… I’m what you call ‘God’ “

“You’re God? No way.”

“Don’t make me say ‘way’. That’s really old.”

“C’mon. You’re not God. Are you?”

“I guess if you don’t believe, I can just hang up.”

“No no… yeah, that’s cool. God, yeah… um.. why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve decided to make you my chosen one.”


“Yeah, that’s right. I ran some numbers and you’re just as likely as anyone else to carry out what I want, so you’re chosen. Enjoy. See ya.”

“Wait… whoa.. don’t hang up yet. What are you talking about?”

“Well, you know. You’re chosen. A lot of people say I chose them over everybody else and they think their belief makes them superior to anyone who thinks otherwise. They’re a bunch of egotistic assholes. I really dislike that.”


“Don’t ask anymore questions. I’ve decided you’re my chosen one. No one else can say that because now you’re it.”

“Why me again… I’m not following. Something about numbers? I don’t get it.”

“What did I just tell you? You don’t have to. I just want to make sure that anyone who thinks they’re the ‘chosen’ one is wrong. So, you’re chosen and metaphysically that’s all that I need to do. You just go on living and when people who aren’t you think they’re chosen, then you can smile to yourself because you know you’re the only one that is.”

“Ok, but I’m honored, but what’s the real benefit? Won’t everyone hate me when they find out?”

“Oh they don’t need to find out. Don’t tell anyone. Let them continue to think they’re the ‘chosen’. I’m just trying to teach these assholes a lesson. I never chose anyone. I put a few people on the planet and they multiplied everywhere and now a bunch of them try to say I said this or that and everything else. How they even know who I am is a mystery since I’ve never been on this planet since the beginning.”

“But what about the–“

“Of course, they make up stories, but that really just feeds their ego. Again, that’s all they seem to have going for them.”

“Um… I guess.”

“Yeah, so I’ve just been monitoring the situation a bit. You know time and space are my playthings so I reviewed the history of this planet in what you would call a ‘blink of an eye’. Not pretty. You guys need to lighten up and start treating each other better.”

“Uh… I…”

“Don’t try to apologize for your own. It’s OK. I chose you simply because choosing one person will mean no one else is chosen and maybe everyone will get off their high horse.”

“So.. I can’t tell anyone.”

“I would bother. No one will believe you anyway.”


“It amuses me to know I chose just one person and everyone else is full of it.”

“I still don’t think I understand… I’m really confused.”

“Don’t worry. Everyone is. But, for me, like I said, it sets things straight in my mind. I don’t care about what they think. They’ll think whatever they want to anyway.”

“But wait… um… now that you’re here, can’t you send your Son back. You know a lot of people believe in you and you really should live up to your promises.”

“Uh huh… I’m trying to think of a nice way to say this… but, there are a lot crazy people it seems on your world and they make up a lot of stuff to feel better about things. I’m not going to say it’s all not true, because I don’t want to be mean. But…”

“So, none of it is true.”

“Let’s just say that grasping at straws seems to be the favorite hobby on your planet.”

“Wait. How do I know you’re God?”

“How do you know I’m not?”


“Gotcha…. well, gotta go. Remember you’re the only one. You’re the chosen one. Enjoy. Bye.”

And then God hung up.

Now do I believe I’m the chosen one? Of course not. The call was probably a prank or just a figment of my imagination. But it does raise some interesting issues about why God would choose one group of people over another to be his ‘chosen people’. And since there are quite a few groups who believe this, someone has to be wrong. And maybe it’s everyone, since, after all, God chose me and not you.


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