The Big Man Upstairs

I believe in a god. I believe that there is some kind of higher power out there. I don’t know if this entity has a sex, what it should look like or where it resides, and to me those thing don’t matter. I just know it is there, and this is what gives me comfort.

Although I was never raised with organized religion, my parents very much tried to instil in my brother and I, that there are greater things at work in the world. A ‘more than what meets the eye’ sort of mentality.

I’m not sure what beliefs are right and what are wrong (that is if any) and I have never much thought about the answers to the ambiguous query’s of life – No, that’s a lie, of course I have, who hasn’t? But these questions do not eat me up inside, or keep me awake at night, because somewhere deep within me, I know that there is something else who will assist us in the hard decisions.

I do know that having this one thing, this one belief  that I have had since I was younger than I can remember, has got me through some pretty tough times. And every once in a while I will stop and remember that I am not alone, despite how rigid life can sometimes be.

I would like my children to be able to find solace in something bigger, something beyond the physical. And I will gently steer them in that direction, but in the end, the choice to believe will completely be theirs.

Something happened yesterday, something that was beautiful and grand.

For today’s post, I would like to share this experience with you.

My Dad and I were sitting in his nice cool shop, as the weather was blistering outside. Lars was playing in the background with the dog, but I could tell he had one ear on our conversation.

Dad was explaining that he really needed some rain since he had just fertilized the crops and the fertilizer needs to be dissolved by the rain before it will begin to take its effect.

Lars comes running up to where we sat,

“Papa, why do you want it to rain?”

“Well, we need rain so Papa’s crops will grow.”

The boy stood there with a puzzled look on his face, as though not quite knowing what to say or do next.

“Why don’t you go ask The Big Man upstairs to give Papa some rain.” My dad said in his most grandfatherly tone.

I looked towards my 4 year old boy, wondering but more so doubting that he would understand what his Grandfather was asking him to do. We have talked briefly with Lars about God or as I have put it, A Higher Power, but have never referred to it as ‘The Big Man Upstairs’ so I wasn’t sure Lars would click in to what was being said.

It was only seconds later that the boy was running towards the large bay doors of the shop that were propped open and once under the blue skies he thrust his head up towards the clouds and screamed with all of the OOMPH he could muster,

“HEY BIG MAN! WE NEED SOME RAIN DOWN HERE FOR PAPA’S FIELDS…THINK YOU COULD GET US SOME?….AT THE FARM PLEASE!”

Both my Father and I were wearing the goofiest smiles upon the young boys return, and we congratulated him on a job well done.

of course when the rain didn’t start falling immediately Lars was shattered, thinking that The Big Man upstairs did not hear him.

Papa explained it may take a while for The Big Man to arrange for the rainfall.

It seemed to suffice.

The following morning while I was still sleeping and had the incident in the outermost portion of my brain, I heard a faint delightful cry of glee from the upstairs floor of my parents home.

As I made my way upstairs, Lars was joyfully reiterating his ploy to receive rain. He spotted me as i stood and watched him in the kitchen and bolted towards me,

“Mama! The Big Man heard me!!!! He gave Papa rain for the fields!” He was so overjoyed that I too became filled with a feeling of awe and wonder, not so much because of the rain, but because of the spirit behind it.

What a magnificent and glorious thing, to be able to speak to the sky and get nature’s gift in return. And for a child to be so jubilant about it, was certainly the topping on the cake.

Something so ordinary and maybe even mundane as rainfall, can elate a child, his mother and her parents to the extent of euphoria; this is what I call a miracle.

And the best part…These things happen every day.

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2 thoughts on “The Big Man Upstairs

  1. Sweet little story! As we grow older we tend to attempt to create logical frameworks for belief. Useful at times but its when you see children accepting it and just being joyful in the celebration of what simply is and how it makes them feel, it’s like you don’t need to figure out a definite answer.
    May he always live in the moment!
    Also thanks for liking my post 🙂

    Like

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