Conversation I Wish For
I wish I could have a conversation like this with God:
“Kevin Basil, you’re not supposed to be married. I’ve been trying to tell you this by convincing every woman you try to make like you that you’re a good man, just not good enough.”
I scratch my head. “Other than being played by Morgan Freeman, how do I know you’re God?”
“Remember that issue you kept having with cars a few years ago? I was trying to tell you that you didn’t need a car. But you had that forty minute commute to Lexmark, and you were very persistent, so I just gave up. But I’m not giving up this time. If you keep trying, you’re going to marry a nag with no personality who’s supposed to be Brad Pitt’s sixth wife. You’ll be miserable. She’ll be miserable. Brad will be miserable. And the American church will lose out on its least charismatic, least capable bishop ever.”
“How do I know you’re God, again?” After a few seconds as a cockroach, God transforms me back into a man again. I prostrate myself before him and get on with learning how to live life permanently lonely.

