#ThursThreads Week 277 : Nothing Is What It Says It Is

Having caused sufficient chaos where Michelle once worked, it was time to spread the chaos to the rest of her social world. Starting with the church she’d once been a member of. A church that had disowned her.

Churches always have leaders. These are usually called pastors. This one was no different. The pastor’s name was Greg Bishop. It was most entertaining to listen to his prayers to God for several nights. “Thank you, God, for removing that vile, evil demon from our presence, and protecting the good people of this world.” Of course, the other half of his prayers were just as entertaining, “Please, God. Find the foul, vile spawn of Satan that is blowing up cars, and ruining people’s lives, and bring that demon to your justice.”

Ah. Christians. So predictable. Most of them, anyway.

Of course, Pastor Greg wasn’t happy at all when his prayers started showing up on social media. Word for word, thanking God for murder, and asking God to stop vengeance. Pastor Greg had a bit of explaining to do on that Sunday morning, when people at his church started asking why he thanked God for someone’s murder. Although they did kind of understand, since Michelle had been, obviously, a vile, evil person.

Of course, I’m certain Pastor Greg had much more difficulty explaining why the church burned to the ground that Sunday night. “Nothing is what it says it is, Pastor. Like how you’re not a man of God.”

246 Words
@mysoulstears


I finally got around to writing part 13 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. I really should write more. It’s Week 277 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.

Teach Me, Lord

Dear Lord in Heaven up above.
Teach me to be blind.
Teach me not to see the misery,
The suffering,
The pain,
In the souls around me.

I want to be happy, Lord.
Not sad.
I want to smile.
And laugh.
Not frown,
And cry.

I don’t want to know
What’s wrong with the world.
Or the people in it.
I don’t want to know
About those who are sick.
And dieing.
I find knowing that disturbs me.
Upsets me.
Makes me cry.

I want to be happy, Lord.
Not sad.
I want to smile.
And laugh.
Not frown,
And cry.

Teach me, Lord,
To walk away
From the people of this world
Who know things are not OK.
They ask questions,
And say things,
That make me think about
Things I rather not.

I don’t care about gun control.
The poor.
The haves, and the have-nots.
So what if there are children
Here in town,
That have no food to eat tonight?

If I think of things like that.
I’ll be sad.
I’ll frown.
And cry.

Teach me, Lord,
To be oblivious to everything
That could bring me down.

So it is, Lord in heaven, up above,
I ask again tonight,
Turn my heart to stone.
And blind my eyes.
So I’ll believe
Everything’s alright.