God, Aunt Betty and Me

This morning I woke up feeling grateful to God. This is weird because God and I
aren't exactly close friends. He makes me mad sometimes so, as a result, we don't talk.

Then I was thinking that if before you're born, while you're standing there at the
turnstile and God is handing you your ticket, He says "You're going to be born now
and this is a gift I'm giving you." How come no one remembers this afterward.
The "gift" part, I mean. How come there's no memory, no instinct that life is a gift
from God, and that we're supposed to enjoy the beauty of the world, this so called
"Gift of Life."

Say my Aunt Betty gives me a all-expenses-paid, European vacation. She loves me
more than anything. She saves her money and makes great sacrifices to make this
dream a reality. Well, while I'm on this trip of a lifetime, you can be darn sure I'd
remember to send ol' Aunt Betty a postcard now and then and feel a sense of gratitude.
In fact, I'd think of her every day. If I got my passport stolen in Brussels I'd probably
think, "Aunt Betty this is all your fault!...If you hadn't sent me here I never would be
in this mess." But, then when I'm noshing on a big plate of spaghetti Amatriciana, the
sauce smeared all over my face, and sipping a glass of vino while watching the sun set
over the red-roofs of Roma on a summer's eve - well, then I'd think, "Good ol' Aunt
Betty. Here's to you! Thank you, thank you, thank you."

My point is, how come I can remember that Aunt Betty sent me on this great trip and
can remember to mentally thank her, but I can't remember God sending me on this trip?

Why didn't God, before clicking me through that turnstile, rubber stamp my forehead
with the words, "Enjoy Your Trip. Remember Me."

The fact is I'm not even sure there was a turnstile. It could've been an elevator. Or,
maybe it was just a doggie door, a swinging flap. I'm not sure there was a God there,
either. I just don't remember. I wouldn't recognize God if I bumped into him a
thousand times. The fact is, I don't know God from Adam.

I'm not sure why I'm thinking so hard about this. It just gets me, though, this life
thing. I mean, exactly what is the point? Here we all are, running around doing
whatever it is we all do that's so darned important, but I just don't get it at all.
I guess I feel like there should be a reason for things.

The other day I was contemplating this and other worthless things when I thought,
"What if everyone on the planet stopped everything and walked outside and just
stood there looking up at the sky, all at the same time!" I know that this would
take a lot of planning and organization, but let's just say we managed to do it. Every
person outside, buses and cars on freeways stopped, airplanes grounded, office
buildings emptied, phones off, no eating or drinking, everybody just stop, look up
and wait.

What do you think would happen?

Maybe we'd hear God laugh.