Now just where was that rascal? Lily had searched under the bed, behind the refrigerator, on top of the armoire, and inside the closet behind the winter coats. No God. Not even an angel or an Old Testament patriarch. She found only gum wrappers, a picture of Elvis, and several empty pill bottles. She knew the lithium prescription was important, but she was so busy this morning, what with looking for God and all.
And then it hit her. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?
Lily ran to the storage closet under the stairs where the board games were stored. God knew everything and would be a natural at Trivial Pursuit. She pulled the box from the stack of Parker Brothers pleasure and proceeded to carefully lift the cardboard top from the game, expecting a billowy cloud of white wisdom to rise up like a genie.
“Rats,” she said when no deity appeared. “He certainly is elusive.”
Lily believed that an almighty being should be more accessible. If she needed her washing machine fixed, all she had to do was pick up the phone and call Sears, which had radio-dispatched trucks. If one wanted to communicate with God, therefore, one used a communications device. She had been so stupid!
“Hello?” she said into the black cordless receiver. “Are you there, God? This is Lily Fourshanks of 317 Henway Drive, Minetonka, Idaho.”
Lily heard the dial tone, not the voice of I Am Who Am.
“That just takes the cake,” Lily said, slamming down the phone. “Whatever God is, he’s no Sears repairman.”
Lily was on the verge of existential despair and lay down on the rug in her dining room. God was lying right next to her.
Lily picked up the shiny copper penny, on which was inscribed, “In God We Trust.”
“He looks a lot like Abe Lincoln,” she mumbled, “but at least he has a beard.”
Lily dropped God into the pocket of her apron before happily washing dishes and mopping the floors.
Lily ardently believed she had found the Almighty. For the rest of the day, nothing indicated otherwise. The neurotransmitters in her brain had ceased a feverish mambo in favor of a peaceful waltz.
It is said that not a single sparrow falls to the ground without the Father’s leave. The same apparently goes for pennies.
Picture: public domain
And then it hit her. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?
Lily ran to the storage closet under the stairs where the board games were stored. God knew everything and would be a natural at Trivial Pursuit. She pulled the box from the stack of Parker Brothers pleasure and proceeded to carefully lift the cardboard top from the game, expecting a billowy cloud of white wisdom to rise up like a genie.
“Rats,” she said when no deity appeared. “He certainly is elusive.”
Lily believed that an almighty being should be more accessible. If she needed her washing machine fixed, all she had to do was pick up the phone and call Sears, which had radio-dispatched trucks. If one wanted to communicate with God, therefore, one used a communications device. She had been so stupid!
“Hello?” she said into the black cordless receiver. “Are you there, God? This is Lily Fourshanks of 317 Henway Drive, Minetonka, Idaho.”
Lily heard the dial tone, not the voice of I Am Who Am.
“That just takes the cake,” Lily said, slamming down the phone. “Whatever God is, he’s no Sears repairman.”
Lily was on the verge of existential despair and lay down on the rug in her dining room. God was lying right next to her.
Lily picked up the shiny copper penny, on which was inscribed, “In God We Trust.”
“He looks a lot like Abe Lincoln,” she mumbled, “but at least he has a beard.”
Lily dropped God into the pocket of her apron before happily washing dishes and mopping the floors.
Lily ardently believed she had found the Almighty. For the rest of the day, nothing indicated otherwise. The neurotransmitters in her brain had ceased a feverish mambo in favor of a peaceful waltz.
It is said that not a single sparrow falls to the ground without the Father’s leave. The same apparently goes for pennies.
Picture: public domain
