I know that millions of dollars and millions of words have been spent on last weeks rapture that wasn’t, but I’m not quiet finished with my two cents.
I have had lots of dates in my time and been stood up my fair share, but really…stood up by Jesus?
That goober, Harold Camping being Jesus’ self-appointed spokes man really had my hopes up that some of the most self-righteous people I know where going to go off to their just reward and leave the sinners like me the hell alone.
I’ve got this neighbor who professes to have the inside scoop similar to Brother Camping, and she has zeroed in on me since I am new to the neighborhood. She spent the good part of an hour hinting around that I was going to be left behind if I didn’t change my wicked ways.
Sister Holy-Roller just assumed that she and I were on the same page of the Bible. Her page reads like a punishing judgmental critique of the human race not the page that is more about love and acceptance and forgiveness.
I tried to remember my manners. She was, after all in my house, drinking my iced tea when she asked me if I was saved. I told her that I was saved from bankruptcy, a lying husband and jail time when this house appeared out of nowhere and she was free to interpret that any she wanted.
What I really wanted to say was, “Obviously, I have not been saved from nosy neighbors like you,” but I refrained.
I’m ever more hopeful that Harold Camping had his wires crossed last weekend and his October re-launch date will beam Sister Holy Roller up to Jesus’ Stairway to Heaven on the twenty-first.
Please Jesus, don’t be a no-show.
Hugs,
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