I am not God.
The reason I know this is that making an actual life and death decision was the most awful thing I could think of. And I prayed that God would not have me choose, but He did. Jesus did not come get the Claude Dog, and when I think about it, nearly a month later, all the energy drains from legs, beginning with the very top of my quads, and I have to breath and concentrate on something.
That’s why I’m not God… I can’t handle final decisions that can’t be taken back. To many what ifs, I should haves and I shouldn’t haves. To much doubt and too many questions.
I am not God and I don’t want to be and I have a new respect for him.