God, how I try to domesticate you. Forgive my presumption that imperils my soul, when I use your name in vain. How dare I strut my stuff on your altar, when Moses and Isaiah knew the mortal risk to get in front of you. I dare to proclaim under your aegis. You who crackle through a burning bush who whisper in the echo of thunder. You travel in a pillar of fire and I ask you for a parking place, as if, I put in a prayer and out pops a prize. God of all existence, please, forgive me for treating you as my underling rather than the ground of all being.
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