Is God Domesticated?

 

 

Have we converted God

Rather than He converting us?

Have we finally converted Him

Such that in us He trusts?

 

Are we now wagging Him

Like a dog wags its tail

And feel with him in our control

We cannot fail?

 

Oft we pray in this way

As though we are in control

And God has to meet our request;

Why, isn’t this bold?

 

Like domesticated animals

Trained to do our bidding:

The dog, the cat, the horse, the ass;

And I am not kidding.

 

 

 

God is no man’s debtor,

The Bible surely points out,

The fact that everything is His

Leaves no doubt.

 

He spoke into becoming

All that we see and experience,

Without Him was and is nothing

That is in existence.

 

Even our breath is His

From the very first one,

And to the time that is appointed

When the last is gone.

 

So, to the Jewish ethnicity

And to all other peoples

God belongs to no particular nation,

Including Israel.

 

 

 

None can domesticate Him

Or Him monopolize:

No President, no Pope, no Priest;

Or Satan who lies.

 

For it is a blatant lie

That God can be controlled,

Whether by prayer or supplication

Or intercession untold.

 

Whether in church or out

Let there be no doubt

That God is the only sovereignty

And no other has clout.

 

 

 

All power is His

And all kingdoms as well

And nowhere without His jurisdiction;

Not even hell.

 

Read the book of Job

And discover what He saw:

God is the Omnipotent Wise One;

In Him there is no flaw.

 

You’d better be on His side

And do what He requires

For He is no respecter of persons

And does what He desires.

 

Stewart Russell © October 29, 2025

 

Punished Unfairly

I pushed the door of my mother’s bedroom and entered.  There on the floor lay one of her most cherished possessions.  It was a crystal flower vase which my father had given her on her last birthday.  She kept it in her room because she wanted nobody to damage it.  Now it lay on the floor in dozens of pieces with the flowers strewn around it.

                    

I was about to turn and leave the room when my mother crept up behind me.  I turned and our eyes met.  She saw the horror on my face then she saw the vase.  She stood there for what seemed like an hour.  I knew it could not have been more than a minute.  I sensed what was coming.  She looked at me, then at the vase, then at me again.  It was then that she said, “How could you do this, Tony?  You know how I cherished that vase.”

                     

I replied, “I did not do it, Mum.  When I entered the room I saw it there on the floor.”  I tried my best to convince my mother of my innocence but I tried in vain.  Mum argued that only she and I were at home therefore I must have been the culprit.

My punishment was almost greater than I could bear.  I could not go out for a month.  I was forced to spend my evenings after school in my room.  I could not even use the telephone.  I felt extremely annoyed especially since I knew I was innocent.  It was some months after when we all found out it was the cat.

                                                

                                                                                                                                                                     Stewart Russell © 1997