Chapter 10a
Pastors know what's best. Yes? Continuing from where we left off.
You know them, pastors and friends. Pastors are God's spokespersons here on earth, so they say, therefore, you must listen to them and obey. If they say "go," you go; if they say come, you come because they know the way, and you don't, okay? If they say do this, you do it, because they know how things are done, and you don't know sheet.
They have a direct line to the crater, you know, like, to the creator and maker of all things greater, or even the lesser ones, but you don't. I've seen many of them, and at the end of the day, one is left to wonder, really wonder about some things. About them, even. How is it that some of these pastors and friends seem to have so much trouble getting anywhere, or getting anything done out there, without the aid and assistance of other folks, other seemingly lesser folks than themselves?
Yet they, yes, them again, are the ones who are going to show me the way to heaven. Telling me how to go about getting there with them, like, if I even want to go there, like they say I should. Or is trying to make me believe that I ought to, like, want to, want to go there. Go where? In there, in there Kojak in there. Yeah! Sometimes people haffi tek bad sin ting mek laugh, so I was able to hear it in their multitude of talks. "Why?" Because of this, too, if you never knew the news. It's not for you, that's why. Yes, you.
Did you come from there, though? Heaven, did you come from there? "No?" Well, you sure ain't going. What did the Bible have to say about that, Joe Hingh? The next time you happen to hear them reading your favorite scripture verse. Yeah, that one coming out of their hands, first; for God so loved the world? tell them to return three verses to St. John 3: 13. Start there and learn what it says on that subject to work in. Do you still want to go? No?
Then come those traveling salespersons; pastors, as they are sometimes called, and worsened. Yeah, for your laughter, I'm certain, and for the altar call. Preachers too, evangelists, prophets, and such the likes as that? - ?"Who's it, mass Fitz?" No, not him, but. The Lord had sent them to you and me. She'd sent them to preach and teach in your churches, to bless you and anoint you, and your purses. To tell you lies and? Sorry, I meant to say, to open up your eyes to what the Lord has got in store for you, in the church and way up there in your mansion in the skies, clear and blue. So, they stood you up in long lines in front of an altar.
Pours oil on your head and flies in your Malt Sir, yes sah, same way mi sey, sah! Anoints you from your right ear down to your right great toe. Leaving the wrong one in your shoes and socks on the floor and coming out on the right side of your fortune too, too fast towards her. Then they send you out on the mission field that she sees afar off. Somewhere in your future, where you never end up going or reaching anyway, to salute her horse.
Everyone in the line was told what everybody already knew. It was true, the fact that these great and mighty people have got great places to go and marvelous things to doe, doe, do. All in the name of, guess who? Yes, and to the glory of the lord, that's who. There were none of the other types of folks there in that long line, though. Nor hanging from the strand on the card for a long time, go. Like, those who were going to become roadkill or the victims of some violent actions, of sorts, then come to their demise, still. Or those who go somewhere else, like, gone all the way downhill? - ?"To health?"
"No."
To a place where we all know that they, yes, those other people and their children are going to go anyway. Although any and everyone could have prophesied this and told them so, you know. Like, tell them where they're going to go; those other people, like John, Jean, and Shane Doe. They're going to prison, jails, and even, death row. But as for those kinds? They weren't there at the time, no. Those kinds of people are from families who, to church, never go. So, they only got what was coming to them anyway, no?
In the meantime, though, the preacher performed wonders there on the "church flow." As in, the floor. In every aisle and the many rows, just as before. But the preacher had to move on now, he had to take the godspell to those other people somehow. Sorry, I meant to say, the gospel, okay, sorry again, Ms. Faye. Therefore, he will need to have to pick up, pack up, leave, and go. No, it's not because "he doesn't love you no Moe," as in, anymore, it's not that, I'm sure. But it's because the preacher has got to take the great message and burden of the cross that he carries for the people of ours at last, to them.
These kinds of marvelous people, of course, amen. Some are still out there in some other pastures fair and have not yet heard those kinds of wonderful words of theirs. Those that he and him alone had received at the mouth of the Lord, beware. "You bet." He must go and give it to those other people too, before he moves on and out, and away from you. But before he walks back out through the door, his pocket will be a lot heavier than before.
Because you would have given up your last pinch of dough, even though you've not paid back the loan that you'd borrowed it out of and taken it from, and which you still owe the man at the exchange post, of the program. But there's no need for you to worry, no, that's for the show, I mean, for sure, that's for sure. Because the blessings are coming soon, pressed down and shaken to overflow, the moon. "Go on now, go back to church, no?"
"No, not to church this time, but worse."
"I know, I know." Go to the other happy place over there near the signpost to post on social media and such, boasting the chorus too, well, of course, my friends. Yes, it's true. Like, take it to social media again: let them lie to you there, too. Or tell you the truth, the naked truth, even.
Just one more thing, though, before I, too, have got to leave and go. Why is it that the prophecy thing and the "real" reality thing don't seem to add up ever, for this morbidly over-churched bunch and the clever? Mere bad luck? Good luck on that one; the bad luck bit, yes, man, and on the yawn. To be continued.
WritingElk.
Pastors know what's best. Yes? Continuing from where we left off.
You know them, pastors and friends. Pastors are God's spokespersons here on earth, so they say, therefore, you must listen to them and obey. If they say "go," you go; if they say come, you come because they know the way, and you don't, okay? If they say do this, you do it, because they know how things are done, and you don't know sheet.
They have a direct line to the crater, you know, like, to the creator and maker of all things greater, or even the lesser ones, but you don't. I've seen many of them, and at the end of the day, one is left to wonder, really wonder about some things. About them, even. How is it that some of these pastors and friends seem to have so much trouble getting anywhere, or getting anything done out there, without the aid and assistance of other folks, other seemingly lesser folks than themselves?
Yet they, yes, them again, are the ones who are going to show me the way to heaven. Telling me how to go about getting there with them, like, if I even want to go there, like they say I should. Or is trying to make me believe that I ought to, like, want to, want to go there. Go where? In there, in there Kojak in there. Yeah! Sometimes people haffi tek bad sin ting mek laugh, so I was able to hear it in their multitude of talks. "Why?" Because of this, too, if you never knew the news. It's not for you, that's why. Yes, you.
Did you come from there, though? Heaven, did you come from there? "No?" Well, you sure ain't going. What did the Bible have to say about that, Joe Hingh? The next time you happen to hear them reading your favorite scripture verse. Yeah, that one coming out of their hands, first; for God so loved the world? tell them to return three verses to St. John 3: 13. Start there and learn what it says on that subject to work in. Do you still want to go? No?
Then come those traveling salespersons; pastors, as they are sometimes called, and worsened. Yeah, for your laughter, I'm certain, and for the altar call. Preachers too, evangelists, prophets, and such the likes as that? - ?"Who's it, mass Fitz?" No, not him, but. The Lord had sent them to you and me. She'd sent them to preach and teach in your churches, to bless you and anoint you, and your purses. To tell you lies and? Sorry, I meant to say, to open up your eyes to what the Lord has got in store for you, in the church and way up there in your mansion in the skies, clear and blue. So, they stood you up in long lines in front of an altar.
Pours oil on your head and flies in your Malt Sir, yes sah, same way mi sey, sah! Anoints you from your right ear down to your right great toe. Leaving the wrong one in your shoes and socks on the floor and coming out on the right side of your fortune too, too fast towards her. Then they send you out on the mission field that she sees afar off. Somewhere in your future, where you never end up going or reaching anyway, to salute her horse.
Everyone in the line was told what everybody already knew. It was true, the fact that these great and mighty people have got great places to go and marvelous things to doe, doe, do. All in the name of, guess who? Yes, and to the glory of the lord, that's who. There were none of the other types of folks there in that long line, though. Nor hanging from the strand on the card for a long time, go. Like, those who were going to become roadkill or the victims of some violent actions, of sorts, then come to their demise, still. Or those who go somewhere else, like, gone all the way downhill? - ?"To health?"
"No."
To a place where we all know that they, yes, those other people and their children are going to go anyway. Although any and everyone could have prophesied this and told them so, you know. Like, tell them where they're going to go; those other people, like John, Jean, and Shane Doe. They're going to prison, jails, and even, death row. But as for those kinds? They weren't there at the time, no. Those kinds of people are from families who, to church, never go. So, they only got what was coming to them anyway, no?
In the meantime, though, the preacher performed wonders there on the "church flow." As in, the floor. In every aisle and the many rows, just as before. But the preacher had to move on now, he had to take the godspell to those other people somehow. Sorry, I meant to say, the gospel, okay, sorry again, Ms. Faye. Therefore, he will need to have to pick up, pack up, leave, and go. No, it's not because "he doesn't love you no Moe," as in, anymore, it's not that, I'm sure. But it's because the preacher has got to take the great message and burden of the cross that he carries for the people of ours at last, to them.
These kinds of marvelous people, of course, amen. Some are still out there in some other pastures fair and have not yet heard those kinds of wonderful words of theirs. Those that he and him alone had received at the mouth of the Lord, beware. "You bet." He must go and give it to those other people too, before he moves on and out, and away from you. But before he walks back out through the door, his pocket will be a lot heavier than before.
Because you would have given up your last pinch of dough, even though you've not paid back the loan that you'd borrowed it out of and taken it from, and which you still owe the man at the exchange post, of the program. But there's no need for you to worry, no, that's for the show, I mean, for sure, that's for sure. Because the blessings are coming soon, pressed down and shaken to overflow, the moon. "Go on now, go back to church, no?"
"No, not to church this time, but worse."
"I know, I know." Go to the other happy place over there near the signpost to post on social media and such, boasting the chorus too, well, of course, my friends. Yes, it's true. Like, take it to social media again: let them lie to you there, too. Or tell you the truth, the naked truth, even.
Just one more thing, though, before I, too, have got to leave and go. Why is it that the prophecy thing and the "real" reality thing don't seem to add up ever, for this morbidly over-churched bunch and the clever? Mere bad luck? Good luck on that one; the bad luck bit, yes, man, and on the yawn. To be continued.
WritingElk.
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