God’s Mug

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I was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a cup of tea and slowly eating two cookies. In other words, I was minding my own business. Suddenly I looked up and another mug besides mine had materialized. I have inserted the photo so you will know I am not making this up.

Whoever owned the mug had a mighty sense of humor for he was smiling as he said, “Vicki, I know you believe in me, so I am choosing you to deliver some wisdom to the people in the Land of Facebook.”

I eyed him with suspicion. I did not want to share my cookies with him. I had limited myself to two, and was not sure that having only one would work.

Apparently he didn’t care if I shared my cookies or not because he just said, “Tell them that emoticons have no place in scripture. It was never written that cutesiness counts.”

Well, that was an easy one to agree to repeat to the Facebookians.

“Done and done,” I said, as I drained my cup. One cookie was left and I had crumbs on my mouth.

“And Vicki,” he said, sipping something mystical from his mug, “Tell them I’m not making any of this stuff up. You know, the cosmos, dental floss, hubris, The Sopranos, age spots, umbilical cords. It all happened, so I didn’t make it up.”

I must confess I hated age spots. Other than that, I gave him a pass on saying that he was responsible.

“People think I make things up to make life harder for them. And I don’t. I make things up because that is how the world began.

Oh, and before I go, one of the Kardashians photo bombed the last supper. The generation of idiots is everlasting, but I had her cut out of the pic. No use wasting something that would one day be reproduced everywhere.”

Suddenly God stood up and I saw that he reached right through the roof and that he was made of something that shimmered when he moved. It was awesome.

So I hope he comes back one day. And now here I am sitting here with an empty mug and no cookies left. No, he didn’t eat them; I did.

I am now back at the keyboard making up more stuff. But then again, aren’t we all?

Vicki Woodyard, Scribe for God

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