Sometimes only a god can know the end from the beginning. Sometimes fate twists, destiny calls, or some superior power intervenes, unexpectedly.
Now, when I say, “only a god,” understand that I’m not talking about the omniscient kind of “God” that religions everywhere imagine and reverence. I am not talking about a divine or heavenly being, and especially not that angry kind that always has to be appeased by us humans. What I mean is a creator-of-worlds kind of god. And my meaning will become more clear as the story rolls forward. Because, like I said, sometimes only a god can know the end from the beginning.

My beginning was simple. Let’s start a little over eighteen years ago or so, on the day I was born. Wait, I guess I don’t really remember that. Okay. Let me begin with my family, instead. Now, you could say I have a large family. I don’t know. There were fifteen of us. I was the youngest child. And since I was born prematurely, I was always “the little guy.”

[This message has been edited by J. H. Sorensen (edited February 12, 2004).]

I fixed my capitalization.

[This message has been edited by J. H. Sorensen (edited February 12, 2004).]

The first problem is that thus far, it gives no reliable cues as to the setting of the story. The narrator seems like a naive modern, but that could just be the author (the fact that you didn't capitalize your post outside of the quoted material tends to strengthen that impression, by the way). But in the first few paragraphs you should give us something definite so we can build up an idea of what context the narrator occupies.

Going under the assumption that this is a work with a modern narrator, you should make your opening less...vague. This opening paragraph represents the motivation of the narrator character in relating this story. It is a statement of intent. And it treats a fairly profound subject. So it should strive to persuade the reader that the narration is worth reading (this is an issue of versimilitude, making the narrator act like a real person). As this happens to fit in with your own goals as a writer (you also want people to read this, though for slightly different reasons than the narrator desires people to read it), you should make every effort.

First off, you need to start off by saying something intelligible. This business about a non-divine, non-omniscient god (possibly one of several) who creates worlds and knows the end from the beginning...it doesn't make sense. In what way is this god not 'divine' and 'omniscient' if he knows 'the end from the beginning' and creates worlds? I'm sure we'll find out if we read the story, but if you don't tell us now, we won't read, will we?

Second, this should sound as if the narrator put some serious thought into it. I know, you can go for the narrator that is just impelled to spill his guts on paper, but that's not what we have here, and if you wanted to go for that, you would still need to completely rewrite this. When the narrator dismisses the concepts of all established religions so casually, you should make it sound as if the narrator has troubled himself to actually study those concepts, or else we don't trust him to do his homework, and have no interest in him as a potential source of truth. When the narrator expresses his own view of godhood, this too should look like it has some thought behind it. Cut the folksy tone, the narrator wouldn't use it unless he was a fool. It's okay to have a narrator who's a fool, but then he has to be plainly laughable from the beginning. In any case, I don't think that you want your narrator to be a fool, though that's just a guess.

Third, realize that no matter how well you pull off this opening, a significant portion of the audience is going to read the open declaration that this story exists to challenge their 'conventional' ideas and will toss it aside in search of something else. A minority that already share the opinions expressed by the narrator will read (if they can identify the position of the narrator, which I couldn't), but read it only for the confirmation of their own opinions. A few will read it openly if it is well written, but expect those to be the most sceptical of all. And by 'few', I mean few.

It was the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I was working at the library, and I was approached by a man who had something interesting to show me, or so he said. The man must have been about sixty, he had gray hair, and a short beard that went down to, but stopped at, his chin. His smile was believable, trustworthy, despite the fact that with his hair slicked back the way it was he looked pretty disreputable. Whatever he wanted, I was sure it wouldn’t be normal. I could tell just by the way he never raised his voice and kept his back turned, making sure that nobody else could see his face from the door.
My first impression, I’ll admit, was, “Ooh. This doesn’t look good.” Which is the way I talk when I am thinking to myself. But you can already tell I put my doubts aside and decided to hear the man out.
He began. “Listen, Slight, this is going to be difficult to believe, I know, but I’m asking you to keep listening until the end.” I raised an eyebrow at him for using the name that wasn’t written on my nametag. “It’s a story you have to hear because it has a lot to do with you. Will you listen?”
“Yes.” I hesitantly replied.

The idea of a non-divine, non-omniscient god who nonetheless "knows the end from the beginning" (presumably he doesn't know all the ends, just some of them, otherwise he would be omniscient) is kind of intriguing, and I think raising it early is important.

But it is also well to remember that first impressions can betray both writer and reader alike.

The opening you choose should draw the reader on, but it should also create a sense of what the narrative is going to be. Certain elements of the expectations raised can and even should be betrayed, but that opening image should be integral to the story as a whole