In Excelsis Deo
This was originally posted on 3-31-05. Even the Almighty Father has no control over Blogger's terrible glitches.
My Children,
I'm not sure what my problem has been of late. I seem to have a real knack for only updating my blog on the last day of the month. It's sort of like that phrase they claimed I said in Genesis of the Bible:
On the 31st day, God said: 'Let there be blogging.'
That's always confused me. I understand that most of you with a spiritual side consider the Bible the real deal, but how is it that people were there to witness how I created the world when there weren't any people in existence yet, let alone writers. To my knowledge, I hadn't even created pencils yet.
I thought I would bring something I've seen circulating through the mail to your attention today. Be patient, this is going to be a long post, but since you've waited long enough, I daresay it shall be worth your while.
Glory be.
As mentioned previously, every so often I like to take a human form and wander around my great creation to get a good look at things from the mortal point of view. Usually, I end up getting upset and leaving early, usually with a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos in tow.
This time was no different. As I was walking down a sidewalk somewhere in South Dakota, I spotted a letter a mail carrier had dropped. Immediately, it caught my eye.
(if you're having trouble reading the text, click on the pictures My Children.)
Blessed? Who besides me and maybe Jesus had to power to bless anything, let alone a home?
This had me intrigued, so I, of course, flipped it over to open it. To my surprise, there was more writing on the back.
The first thing that bothered your Holy Father was this: It's addressed to someone on the front, but on the back, it's invoking the powers of Jesus. It's almost as though the sender believes that my son has given up his work as a carpenter and decided to enter the Postal Service.
And, pray tell, whosoever decided that certain words needed to be underlined? They claim to pray and bless the letter, but apparently, that's not enough. It's a prayer, it's a request, it's a giant mess.
The inside was even more intriguing. For the sake of space, I've just included the links that will take you to the entire letter. But, I shall call out some things within thine letter that caught my all-seeing eyes.
Letter, Page 1
Letter, Page 2
For starters, I never authorized any Holy Blessing Power. And Prayer Rug? Whosoever said anything about putting any kind of power, holy or otherwise inside a rug. I was more curious than ever to find out what this ungodly business was about. I flipped the letter over.
Somehow, this Church is claiming to have the power to make prayers and wishes come true. I asked Saint Matthew about this and he claims to not know anything about the infidels behind this blasphemy. I wasn't sure what their true intentions were until I saw the bottom of the page, beneath the checkboxes for what it is you need their holy power for.
Money. These heathens are after money. I should've known.
I laughed through my holy beard reading some of the selections available to check off.
Confusion in my home? My children? The best one? I want to be saved.
Here's my advice from on high. Save your money.
Oh, but there was more inside.
Here is the mighty prayer rug. Usually rugs are woven with fine fibers or fabric, but not this one. No, this "rug" was printed on second rate paper with an fourth rate photo of my son, Jesus Christ. When I showed him this atrocity, he threatened to tear the thing up and go down there personally to set fire to the church.
He can have a temper. I reminded him that we couldn't keep or destroy the prayer rug. It needed to be returned so that it could be sent to another family or household. Interestingly enough, it looked like the rug inside the envelope was brand new. It truly didn't appear to have been passed from house to house.
At the bottom of the rug were instructions on using the rug:
The godless folks over at St. Matthew's Church actually want you to stare at the rug until Jesus's eyes open. Then you have to be alone and kneel on the rug. Or, if you're knees aren't working as well as I intended, you can just lay it across them.
I enjoy the fact that you are not to keep the rug for yourself. It needs to be returned.
Some of the apostles were making fun of Jesus because of the rug, which got him even more upset. He went out back and smokes some cigarettes by himself. I told him he needed to quit some of his more mortal habits. He shall end up setting his beard ablaze, I fear.
The back of the rug had a surprise as well.
More demands. More empty promises. They never consulted me for use of my blessing or that I would even bless someone so gullible that they would use the Holy Carpet to help with the confusion in their home.
Soaked with the Power of Prayer? I don't think so. It was soaked with ink to print up this ridiculous propaganda and that was all.
The last piece I hath discovered in the bulging envelope was the testimony page.
Testimony Page 1.
Testimony Page 2.
Obviously, I won't further harden your heart with a detailed description of what the testimonies contain. However, these two items from the front got my ire up.
This is what it is all about then, my children? The money? It's always about the me-forsaken money. I can say with supreme authority that I didn't authorize that $5,000. Constance Deluca? That was blood money. Your hands are filthy with blood money.
With all that's going on in the universe, I don't remember healing the throat of Alvin Robert Ferguson. Maybe if he hadn't smoked like a chimney since the day his mother removed his bottle, his throat wouldn't be in such a state. Consider that luck, Alvin.
The back of the testimony depicts this woman from circa 1973. Again, it's all about the money. What about happiness? What about a wish for your children? World peace? No. These people at St. Matthew's Church are pushing the idea that if you give to them (and use that ridiculous Prayer Rug) all of your monetary (and throat healing) dreams can come true.
I'll be paying them a visit. Like my son Jesus kicking over money changing tables at the temple that one time, I'll be bringing my own brand of holy justice.
Prayer Rug. It's enough to make me want to...
My Children,
I'm not sure what my problem has been of late. I seem to have a real knack for only updating my blog on the last day of the month. It's sort of like that phrase they claimed I said in Genesis of the Bible:
On the 31st day, God said: 'Let there be blogging.'
That's always confused me. I understand that most of you with a spiritual side consider the Bible the real deal, but how is it that people were there to witness how I created the world when there weren't any people in existence yet, let alone writers. To my knowledge, I hadn't even created pencils yet.
I thought I would bring something I've seen circulating through the mail to your attention today. Be patient, this is going to be a long post, but since you've waited long enough, I daresay it shall be worth your while.
Glory be.
As mentioned previously, every so often I like to take a human form and wander around my great creation to get a good look at things from the mortal point of view. Usually, I end up getting upset and leaving early, usually with a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos in tow.
This time was no different. As I was walking down a sidewalk somewhere in South Dakota, I spotted a letter a mail carrier had dropped. Immediately, it caught my eye.
(if you're having trouble reading the text, click on the pictures My Children.)
Blessed? Who besides me and maybe Jesus had to power to bless anything, let alone a home?
This had me intrigued, so I, of course, flipped it over to open it. To my surprise, there was more writing on the back.
The first thing that bothered your Holy Father was this: It's addressed to someone on the front, but on the back, it's invoking the powers of Jesus. It's almost as though the sender believes that my son has given up his work as a carpenter and decided to enter the Postal Service.
And, pray tell, whosoever decided that certain words needed to be underlined? They claim to pray and bless the letter, but apparently, that's not enough. It's a prayer, it's a request, it's a giant mess.
The inside was even more intriguing. For the sake of space, I've just included the links that will take you to the entire letter. But, I shall call out some things within thine letter that caught my all-seeing eyes.
Letter, Page 1
Letter, Page 2
For starters, I never authorized any Holy Blessing Power. And Prayer Rug? Whosoever said anything about putting any kind of power, holy or otherwise inside a rug. I was more curious than ever to find out what this ungodly business was about. I flipped the letter over.
Somehow, this Church is claiming to have the power to make prayers and wishes come true. I asked Saint Matthew about this and he claims to not know anything about the infidels behind this blasphemy. I wasn't sure what their true intentions were until I saw the bottom of the page, beneath the checkboxes for what it is you need their holy power for.
Money. These heathens are after money. I should've known.
I laughed through my holy beard reading some of the selections available to check off.
Confusion in my home? My children? The best one? I want to be saved.
Here's my advice from on high. Save your money.
Oh, but there was more inside.
Here is the mighty prayer rug. Usually rugs are woven with fine fibers or fabric, but not this one. No, this "rug" was printed on second rate paper with an fourth rate photo of my son, Jesus Christ. When I showed him this atrocity, he threatened to tear the thing up and go down there personally to set fire to the church.
He can have a temper. I reminded him that we couldn't keep or destroy the prayer rug. It needed to be returned so that it could be sent to another family or household. Interestingly enough, it looked like the rug inside the envelope was brand new. It truly didn't appear to have been passed from house to house.
At the bottom of the rug were instructions on using the rug:
The godless folks over at St. Matthew's Church actually want you to stare at the rug until Jesus's eyes open. Then you have to be alone and kneel on the rug. Or, if you're knees aren't working as well as I intended, you can just lay it across them.
I enjoy the fact that you are not to keep the rug for yourself. It needs to be returned.
Some of the apostles were making fun of Jesus because of the rug, which got him even more upset. He went out back and smokes some cigarettes by himself. I told him he needed to quit some of his more mortal habits. He shall end up setting his beard ablaze, I fear.
The back of the rug had a surprise as well.
More demands. More empty promises. They never consulted me for use of my blessing or that I would even bless someone so gullible that they would use the Holy Carpet to help with the confusion in their home.
Soaked with the Power of Prayer? I don't think so. It was soaked with ink to print up this ridiculous propaganda and that was all.
The last piece I hath discovered in the bulging envelope was the testimony page.
Testimony Page 1.
Testimony Page 2.
Obviously, I won't further harden your heart with a detailed description of what the testimonies contain. However, these two items from the front got my ire up.
This is what it is all about then, my children? The money? It's always about the me-forsaken money. I can say with supreme authority that I didn't authorize that $5,000. Constance Deluca? That was blood money. Your hands are filthy with blood money.
With all that's going on in the universe, I don't remember healing the throat of Alvin Robert Ferguson. Maybe if he hadn't smoked like a chimney since the day his mother removed his bottle, his throat wouldn't be in such a state. Consider that luck, Alvin.
The back of the testimony depicts this woman from circa 1973. Again, it's all about the money. What about happiness? What about a wish for your children? World peace? No. These people at St. Matthew's Church are pushing the idea that if you give to them (and use that ridiculous Prayer Rug) all of your monetary (and throat healing) dreams can come true.
I'll be paying them a visit. Like my son Jesus kicking over money changing tables at the temple that one time, I'll be bringing my own brand of holy justice.
Prayer Rug. It's enough to make me want to...
posted by God at 6:29 AM
4 Comments:
Wait, wait... Jesus smokes? Are we sure that he doesn't smoke.... up? Ya'v gotta admit, he has a little of the sixties about him.
Welcome back God. Get any of those heartbreaking, gut-wrenching prayers I've been sending your way? Do you really understand the crying and the blubbering or do you know what you know and know what the need is from our heart and soul?
It'd been a bad month or so around here - on many levels and in many circles. A lot of people are angry and hurt. I'm beginning to think I stand alone in the center of an angry universe.
So far I haven't "lost it" completely, but I think it is almost my turn. I think I really want to have a turn this time. I could use some down time. .
Please keep Lilly safe - send protecting angels to guard her day and night.
Bear,
I have indeed gotten your prayers. I've been following the chaos cards life has dealt you these past few months.
If I may be so bold (and I may) I have to say you're a shining example of patience and grace. Not only has your beautiful granddaughter been stripped from your caring arms, you've had much to deal with besides that in your own home.
Understand that while I work in 'mysterious ways', I'm not a cruel and thoughtless God. Blessed times are coming your way.
The people who have hurt and taken advantage of you will take a step back from themselves, realizing what they've done. They'll also see how fortunate they are to have someone like you in their lives.
Hang in there, Bear.
Dear God, if you need any help smiting the denizens of St Matthew's, please consider me for inclusion in the posse.
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