I found god in a pair of all white Van sneakers. The moment I slipped my feet through these shoes was Cinderella-esque: everything seemed so right. Cleanliness is the closest thing to godliness.

I found god in my wallet, coming slowly like tortoises and fleeing quickly like hares. God was behind my debit card and every time I swiped that plastic, I felt something warm beating in my Barbie/Ken doll hollowed chest.

She found god in him. Then she found god in herself. Then she found god laying right next to her, exhausted, smiling, and content. She found god in the peaks and valleys of his muscular build, slightly clothed from a cleverly placed sheet. She found god in tracing outlines in the canvas of his body. She could feel god.

These two found god trapped inside of needles. The two different gods in two needles for the two veins. One of them released god into the veins of the sick. The other unleashed god into himself.

I found god in a Where’s Waldo book. When I was easily able to find Waldo on every single page last week at the Dentist’s, I found god waiting at the end of the book. Waiting to tell me “So, here it is. This game isn’t a challenge anymore. Close the book and find someone else now.”

Somebody found god once. The risen sun to bright in their losing eyes.

We found god in a basketball court last night. We found god in shots of Jack Daniels and Honduran cigars. We found god in our hands and in the gunpowder cut from fireworks into god’s orange juice bottle. We lit off sparks and we tied a fuse to that orange juice bottle. We even got to hear god too. But after hearing him, we got a little spooked and we ran away from him.

We found god in a parking lot and he asked us for change.

She found god inside of a book. She found god in every book she read, in fact. They all looked a bit like Peter Van Houten. And she wasn’t sure, but she thinks they were all wearing glasses.

I found god at the bottom of my bowl of soup once. After my first paycheck, I decided to treat myself to a lovely meal. Complimentary soup was given to me. Tomato basil. It was a delectable meal. One of the first that I was actually able to buy for myself.

He found god in a room, sitting alone. God was just sitting in this old, wooden chair and staring up at the ceiling: as if there was something written along the top.

She found god waiting at the end of the road. She found god waiting behind a drunken driver, an old oak tree, and a broken barrier.

They found god but lost him a long, long time ago. So they laced up their boots and stuffed their backpacks with only the bare essentials. They found god once, and they were going to do it again.

We found god in ourselves this morning. You never get to know somebody until you talk to them at 4 in the morning. We found the holiness in our words and we found the chivalry in our actions. Our laughter was suppressed because of sleepers downstairs and like bullets from a silenced gun: still deadly. We saw the angels trapped inside of our conversations and we even caught a glimpse of the great master plan at one time or another.

I see god in myself. Sitting at a table for two with a book, a pen, and a notepad. He is drinking a cup of white tea.

I see the devil in myself. Sitting with god, enjoying a latte. He is very well dressed.