I may have told you of my image of going out in a middle of a thunderstorm and holding a 2-iron high and yelling at God that if He had a hair in His ass, he would strike me dead and make Paul healthy. Well, He did not do it so I have said that all I know about God is that He does not have a hair in His ass.So, the other day I said that when I get to heaven, the first thing I am going to do is search out God and beat His hairless ass. I told a friend this to illustrate that I was still angry about Paul's death. The friend preached to me of course and thought I might not make it to heaven. So, although I told my friend God and I understood each other, and that I knew He could strike me dead anytime; I think maybe He is amused at me wanting to grab His throat and choke Him down. So here is how I envision this. ...
I get to heaven and St. Peter is checking the role and he looks at my record and gets this weird smile and says that I can go on in. So I ask where I could find God. He motions off to his left so I go charging off in that direction. I see my Mom looking all beautiful and young sitting on a bench watching Paul and my Dad playing a little one on one basketball. Both are about 22 years old. Mom tells me that some people are a little upset with me but she knows I have good judgement and probably know what I am doing. So I go over toward Dad and Paul but then I see God sitting over to the right on a big high golden throne. So I start charging toward Him. Dad tries to get in my way like he is herding a horse with his arms all spread out.
He says, "Come here you stubborn little bugger."
But I dart by him and then Paul steps up, and grabs me in a choke hold, like the Undertaker on WWE and holds me up in the air with one arm and laughs and says,
"Look at those puffed out lips! Look here Dad, here I am."
He puts me down and we all start hugging and asking about what he has been doing and I forget all about kicking God's hairless ass. Mom comes over holding a little girl by the hand. She is the prettiest little girl I have ever seen and looks to be about twelve years old.
Mom asks, "Zeke, do you know who this is?"
"This is your big sister, Marian. God took her before she was born. But if He had not taken her and let me live, then neither you nor any of your brothers or any of my grandchildren or great-grandchildren would have ever been born." I pick my sister up and squeeze her tight. We all embrace in a long group hug. As we are jumping around with joy, I glance over toward God and He is looking our way with a satisfied little smile on His face. ... 12/3/2004
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