A God of Nobility

I have one question to ask you.

What would you want, if you were God?

Say, on a day full of nothing but free time, you created something-... remarkable. Something big; something amazing; something no one has ever seen before. It can do marvelous things, wonderful things. It knows no limits and holds no bounds. Your creation-... is infinite...

-and, yet...

it does nothing but look at you.

Your creation, your wonderful invention; it refuses to stop looking at you. This thing, this [i]wonder[/i] you've created, the only action it accepts performing is that of worshiping you. Whatever purpose it had from the beginning, whatever original thing it was supposed to enact, it has long forgotten. It only looks at you. And through this, almost ironically, it asks you what it's supposed to be doing. But it won't do it.

I think, in a way, that is humanity (or religion, whichever your stance may be.) We look to our god, or gods, or some other form of deity, and we worship. We worship, we live by a man-written set of rules for this deity, and all the while we wonder, "What does our God want us to do?"
You see, we've been doing this so long that we ourselves have forgotten our purpose. It was lost, somewhere in the beginning of history when someone decided our creator created us only to tell him he was pretty. As a theist, I find this-... pathetic. If there is a God, as I hope and believe there is, I do not believe he put is here for the sole reason of telling him how great he is, something I'm sure he already well knows. He put us here to [i]do[/i] something. There has to be something we were supposed to do. There has to be some set of words we were supposed to say. There has to be some fact we were supposed to discover. There has to be some architecture we were supposed to build.

"Alas," some might say, "it is too late."

"We've forgotten our purpose, so now, we have none."

Now, I don't believe that.

Whatever "purpose" we as humans are supposed to have, we still know it. We just don't speak it. We don't teach it to our children in school alongside trigonometry and chemistry. We don't preach it in our churches. We don't write it in our books, and yet we know it. Somewhere, deep down, we're aware of why we're here. Somewhere.

Somewhere.
We know.