Ever closer it came, close enough to tap me on the shoulder, but I walked on. Frustrated by my unresponsiveness, the figure threw stones at my back, then struck me with a stick, still wanting simply to get my attention. But despite the pain, I kept walking away. Over the years, the befriending intent of this figure never disappeared but became obscured by the frustration caused by my refusal to turn around. It is the self planted in us by the God who made us in God's own image - the self that wants nothing more, or less, than for us to be who we were created to be.
True self is true friend.
One ignores or rejects such friendship only at one's peril. God isn't up. God is down. God is in. I knew intellectually that I wasn't special.