Maybe it’s the inconvenient truth, maybe it’s the war in Iraq, maybe its because I leave work so deliriously exhausted I’ve confused the mega-church’s Christmas decorations as St Peter’s gate, but I’ve been thinking a lot of the apocalypse and my place in it.
My dad, and spiritual advisor, recommended attending a service/filming at the Broadchurch Network to quench my thirst for salvation. He thought I should bring my busted vacuum in case it too can run on the power of prayer. But, I’m camera shy and work Sundays. Instead, I drive past the church with my vacuum and whisper, “Through the power of Jesus make my vacuum suck and my life not, Amen.”
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6 comments:
Great prayer. Makes sense to me.
Hey Honey,
Mama Gruntle and I are worried about you. You got to keep both hands on the wheel while driving. If you are praying, you should have your eyes closed, and your palms lifted up to heaven, from where all gifts are flowing. That sounds like a sure recipe for an accident. Remember that if you die in an accident while you are praying over a small appliance, Jesus is likely to look at you and say, "So, why didn't you buy the service plan?"
I'm sitting in my church office cubicle trying not to laugh so hard that I would disturb the secretaries... I too was in retail, in a past life. You crack me up. Please keep writing.
Oh, good Lord, you are hilarious. Thank you!
This is Great!
I'll have to hop over to PeaceBang's blog and thank her for the link.
Keep writing - you're good.
Oh that's good. The first post I've read and I'm already subscribing.
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