As a creative type, God knew it was always better to show than to tell - particularly with this disillusioned Gen X and the humanistic Millennials in their stead. In recent centuries, she'd reveled in natural disasters that brought people together and subtle displays of natural beauty that compelled an abundance of Instagram
posts (Super Moon!). She knew the days of bossy mountaintop edicts delivered through profits and flamboyant gestures like burning bushes and parting seas were long gone - the relic of a time when people were more perceptive to magic but less intellectual and far less trusting of anything beyond their own empirical judgment. God did not blame them for that. She knew she'd overdone it, and she was proud of them for having reached the adulthood of their species.
She knew that as she and her people continued to grow, that refinement, wisdom, and understanding would occur of the differences between matters such as love and commitment, and happiness and contentment, or stubbornness and perseverance, and truth and faith.
God, like her people, was evolving. But not fast enough, it seemed, for her board.
God's board of directors, while willing to bend somewhat on how they defined "The Faithful" (pet fish acquired at circus carnivals were now allowed in, for example), was increasingly impatient with the return on their investment. God was in the hot seat, and she needed some big wins.