weathers

"Less preaching the gospel. Less talk about Jesus. More getting on with living your life."

It was a phone text from an acquaintance.

I was a bit miffed when I read it.

The more I thought about it the more miffed I got.

Presently my miffdom through excessive sensitivity and over thinking, had worked itself up until it reached the elegaic heights we call Ephin Raging.

Sitting on a bench in a park with the dogs and XT Swan patrolling nearby, I considered various possible replies. 

I could respond with one of my famous mildly obscene pejorative excoriations.

Yes.

I think the person was actually trying to hurt me. I would quite like to cause some hurt by return. Just a little punch. Just one.

Or I could text: "Jesus is my life. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me."

But heaven might sue.

A gentle misty rain was falling at twilight.

I looked up.

A blackbird had alighted on a bush beside and was sitting there silhouetted against the sky, looking down on us companionably.

He stayed a while.

Back home on my kitchen table my eye fell on a Thought For The Day book by Kenneth and Gloria Copeland.

Someone had given it to me to read and I've been wading through it for oh about the past five years. There's a lot of stuff I'm not too keen on, promising you wealth if you believe in the Lord, but I like some of the preaching and the Bibley bits.

This evening the book was opened on a page headlined: "Don't answer."