Just now I was driving around hunting for a spot, and I knew that it was ten o'clock on a weekday, and it would not be very likely that I would get much of a spot, if any spot at all, and I would probably have to drive very far away and park in a sketchy place that I could not walk to at night even if I were so inclined (which I am not). And I was feeling cheery, and it was a nice day, so I started to sing "Morning Has Broken", which is one of the nicest hymns (I just wrote "humns". I am Winnie the Religious Pooh.) I know, and then I was already singing church songs, so I sang a few more, and then AMAZINGLY a spot was there. Really close to my flat. Improbably close to my flat. Not sketchy at all. Eminently walkeable-to in the dark night-time. Miraculously close to my flat and convenient.
Okay, I know this is not a big call-the-Pope miracle, but it felt like one because of the closeness to my flat and the coincidental timing with the church-song singing, and now I feel like I was giving God a hint by singing church songs: "Um, well, I'm not going to bother You by asking You for a spot, but I'll just be here, Ya know, driving around, looking for a spot, singing songs to praise Your name. Don't mind me."
But I swear, I wasn't doing that! I swear! I'm not trying to manipulate God! I mean, I wouldn't! How totally hellbound would I be then?
I now return ye to yer regularly scheduled pirate day talking, matey. ARRRRR.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment