Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Hello God? Hold the Phone!

Hello God?

Can you hear me now?

I know I'm a day late for our weekly conversation (and do you think you could possibly do something about the "dollar short" part too?)

Anyway God, I want to start off by talking about Cheetos.  The crunchy kind.   Do you think there is any possibility that you could get someone to make them where the orange-cheesy-powdery stuff doesn't get all over your fingers when you eat them?  For some reason, the keyboard of my new netbook is developing an orange sheen. . .

But that's not what I called to tell you.

I want to tell you that I've become aware of more-than-a-few instances where life in general has become unusually unbearable for some folks within my ken, and I won't bore you with the whole Why? question again, but I feel the overwhelming need to raise my hand and shout Hold the Phone!

So Hold the Phone! (if you will. . . .) while I rail against the following. . .  

But she was only 35!  Perhaps that particular melanoma could have been saved for someone who didn't leave behind three small children.  And a handsome husband.  And a beautiful home. And a fairy tale spoiled.

But he is merely 31!  And also the parent of two young toddlers.  What would make anyone think they had a right to beat another soul within an inch of his life?  Leaving his father devastated - and trying to hold it all together???

But she has young kids!  You tell me what complicated jumble of depression/ambition/helplessness would cause a mother of three young children to jeopardize their childhood by doing anything that could send her to jail for five precious years of their lives?  And - perhaps more importantly - how was there no one there to stop her?

But she's only 20!   And here we quickly fall into the old  There but for the grace of God go I . . . saying that my mother used to mutter at others' unfortunate events.  Let's leave it at that, shall we?  I know I might very-well be in her parents' shoes one day. . .

And - last, but never least. . .

But she has blond hair!  Okay, I can't really come up with another reason that someone shouldn't be suffering from the strange and eerie symptoms that she's experiencing. . . but she's young. . . and beautiful. . .and blond. . . yes, she's a God-fearing person!

So that's it, my friend, in toto.   I now conclude my written correspondence for the week.  You can keep the whole Cheetos thing on the back burner for a while if you need to.   I realize that some of my action items may be more time-sensitive than others, but it really would be kind of awesome. .  .wouldn't it????

Oh. . . and about that little swear word in front of you today. . . at the tabernacle?   I really didn't mean to blurt it out like that, but that door to your house is heavy and that broken nail hurts like a mother. . .  .