bad news and worse news... and a question

I just had a stunning realization last night. It hit me like a gigantic subway train zooming at a hundred miles an hour and left me utterly dazed and speechless.

God does not need me. Or you, dear reader. Or the entire Universe, with its quasars and black holes and galaxies and all its magnificent wonders. Or the innumerable legions of glorious angels populating the courts of heaven.

Because He is God, He is perfect. Which means, He does not lack anything. He does not need anything.To put in more positive terms, He is complete in and of Himself.

What gives Him the greatest enjoyment and deepest delight is Himself. Far, far back in time, to the endless ages when even time itself did not exist yet, God was, as He is and will be. And what truly captivated His affections then, and until now, were the unfathomable riches of His glory in His Son and in His Spirit.

He does not need me. He did not create me, the Jef Sala (as I am so prone to think of myself this narcissistically) , for who I am or anything intrinsically good in me, out of some sort of insufficiency on His part. He does not need my mind, the insight and creativity of which I have always prided on. He does not need my words and my mouth to proclaim His glory to the world. He could have easily created a thousand angelic beings, undefiled by sin unlike me, with a single whisper, to bear His image and reflect His radiance.

Rather, I need Him. I am entirely contingent on His sovereign will. I owe every passing tick on the clock to His sustaining power.

What I just mentioned above is already horrifying news to me, the haughty sinner that I am. But what makes it so much worse, is that I, forgetting that I am secondary and superfluous, have raised my puny pygmy-arms in rebellion to my Creator, blasphemed His holy name, defiled the gifts of my mind and body, and rejected Him as my God.

Then why do I even exist? Why does He keep me alive, breathing and kicking? Why does He allow me, despite my abominations and idolatries, to live a few more seconds to enjoy that absolutely scrumptious machacado con huevo-stuffed breakfast taco at the cafeteria? Why does He let me live when I deserve to rot in the deepest pits of the outer darkness?

The answer, dear reader, friend, bloghopper, whoever you are, still sounds too good to be true for me that I don't even believe it as of the moment. Thus I shall continue this on Thursday.