[JimmyDimples]

I found this in another forum when I was playing an alternate reality anime play-by-email roleplaying game. I was writing for a character who was struggling with her steadily increasing size, and was looking around for stories and anecdotes on others with similar problems. While this isn’t a rapid-growth story, I thought this was WAY too good too keep to myself.

–JD

The Woman Who Was Too Big For God

by Shannon O’Donnell

She was big. No question about it. Size 12 feet. Broad hips. Big

belly. Generous breasts. Wide shoulders. Big smile too. Even her

voice was big,her laughter full and rich, capable of filling an

auditorium. Some things fit, most didn’t. She searched for chairs

without arms, hard to find in most places where the chairs cut into her

back and sides. She eyed every couch before she sat down, gauging its

worthiness and her ability to rise gracefully from it. She asked for

seat belt extensions and the window seat when she flew so her bulk

wouldn’t intrude too much on her neighbor. Once, when she traveled to

Europe, she was stuck in the middle of five seats in the middle section

of the plane. The whole long trip, she sat with her arms folded across

her stomach and tried not to take up too much room. She woke up, every

now and then, and from the looks of the people around her, she knew her

snore was big enough to drown out the sound of the movie. She took up

space. Lots of it. She was too big for most rooms, she thought, and so

she found ways to be on the edges, not in the center, as if people

wouldn’t notice.

She was big. Too big for most clothes, especially the pretty ones with

sparkles and beads and ribbons. She hadn’t worn regular shoes for

years, and the thought of her feet in dancing shoes left her laughing.

She was big. Bigger than almost anyone she knew. Her hug was huge, two

strong arms that could wrap around and hold a person close and be warm,

safe, whole. She was a great big pillow to cry into, one that held all

the tears until you were done crying. Her friends would tell you she

had a heart as big as the prairies.

She told big stories. Outrageous stories about old ladies who ran away

from home and went to summer camp or sent postcards from their travels

around the country. She told jokes, funny ones and stupid ones and ones

that made you think for a whole day before you laughed.

There was a secret the big woman knew, something she didn’t tell anyone.

She didn’t even tell herself very often because it hurt to hear the

words. "I’m too big," she’d whisper, "too big for God. Even God

doesn’t have arms big enough to hold me." And then that great and big

and gentle woman would cry. And her tears were just like her- big and

gentle and they washed over her face and splashed down into her lap.

A giant hole in her heart opened one day. Nothing filled it. Nothing

healed it. It just ached. And there wasn’t much she could do about it.

She thought for a long time that it didn’t matter. It was really okay

that God was too small. But lately it wasn’t okay. Lately she was no

longer satisfied to let God off the hook. Either God was God, and

capable of being big enough for her, or they could just call it quits

right here and now.

"You’re not too much for me," God said. "Where did you ever get that

idea?"

"I don’t fit," the woman said. "It’s not just my body size. I just

don’t seem to fit into the picture."

"Tell me more," God coaxed.

"Haven’t you ever noticed," she asked, "that in all the pictures I’m the

one just out of camera reach. My body doesn’t all make it into the

picture."

God nodded.

"But my life doesn’t fit either. It’s not like the lives of my friends.

I don’t fit inside a marriage. I don’t fit into my work. I’m too big

for people who want to follow all the rules."

"And what’s wrong with that?" God asked. "Who told you that you had to

fit those pictures?"

"But you said—" she started to say.

"I did no such thing. Never. Now, granted, some significant people in

your life may have claimed I demanded that, but I’m here to tell you

that I never did."

"So why don’t I fit?" the woman asked.

"Oh but you do!" laughed God. "Oh, my dear, you do!"

The woman folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "You’re not

taking this very seriously," she complained. "You have no idea how it

feels."

"Oh, don’t I?" God chided. "You, my love, are as grand and glorious as

all the Rocky Mountains, as huge and wide as the oceans. You are as big

as a house-rattling storm that shakes the teeth of the people inside.

You are like a giant earthquake and as dazzling as fields swamped by

flowers. You are the embodiment of outrageous, silly, lavish grace.

You, of all people, you are not puny."

She studied God, puzzled. "So, what you’re saying is…"

"What I’m saying, dear heart, is that with you I do things in a big

way." And God chuckled.

The woman chewed her lip. "It’s not enough," she said finally.

"Only because you’ve been hiding outside the frame of the picture," said

God. "Look, people pack up their cars and travel for miles to see real

mountains, not those puny little hills on the East Coast that they

pretend are mountains. No, I’m talking about the big ones! The Rockies.

The Sierras. Big mountains like Rainier and Shasta. These people drag

along their cameras and their video recorders and they spend all their

time taking pictures. And you know what?"

"What?"

"They go home. They drop off the pictures to be developed and they do

the laundry. A week or two later, they remember to pick up the

pictures. They shuffle through them, try to remember where they were

the day that picture was taken, and who took this strange shot? They

complain about the color. And the flatness of the picture is nothing

like what they saw those few weeks ago. Then they toss the envelope of

pictures into a drawer and forget about them."

"So?" she prompted.

"So, they never saw the mountains, all those vast giant beauties I

created. They settle for puny reproductions and wonder why everything

else in their lives is so flat and stale. You are like those mountains,

huge and grand and glorious. People who see you only through the

camera’s lens will not know your beauty. How could they? They have

forgotten how to see."

God raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Now you, you in your body, can

you forget how big you are?" God asked.

She looked impatient. "No, you know that! How could I forget? It’s

always there, always a part of how I move around in the world."

"Do you ever feel small? Flat? Puny?" God was grinning at her.

She stuck out her tongue. "Hell, no!"

"Then you’re seeing the real beauty, not some camera’s reproduction.

And there are no edges to the picture. You always fit."

"Yeah, but, . . ." her voice trailed off.

"I’ll tell you a secret. I like doing things in a big way, so people

will notice, pay attention, wake up. You’re one of my best surprises."

God reached for her and spun her around and danced a wicked tango with

her.

"You know," the woman said when the dance was over and a huge moon

hung over the horizon, "you’re a lot taller than I thought you were."

[Mark Newman]

Interesting story.

It would be a bit sacrilegious I know. But what if while doing the tango she stepped on God’s toes, hurt his feet and knocked him down? What if the ending had God saying that she was a lot bigger than he thought she was?

[Cowprobe]

Jimmy Dimples I really like that story. Made me think of that amazon woman from Lunatic Night. It also has a nice folksy Americana feel to its telling. As if it was animated by Spumco except without all the circus midget references.

Marknew.. that’s classic I think that should be a bumper sticker for the Power Femme universe chicks "Today Superman, Tomorrow God!" or "She 3:16".

[Anonymous]

A vary good story. Finding something new and thought provoking in a genre that tends to be one dimensional and seedy is a gem indeed.

[Author]

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