Up From the Grave He Arose!

oh me oh my…A few moons ago I sleepily walked into my bathroom and turned on the light. There in the greenish tones of florescence beheld a chilling large moth on my sink. Despite it’s glorious powdered-ness, I snatched it with A square of toilet paper (tried to conserve as I wounded the eco-system. hm.), HOWEVER I couldn’t bear to squeeze the light addict. Thus, the porcelain throne turned into the porcelain abyss for this tragic addict to die a slow death of drowning. I pivoted back to my original stance and began to wash my beloved face (using the excellent face line called Eminence Organics).

As I dabbed my face dry, my periphery vision alerted my sensory processes to interpret what the H was going on…the moth emerged or rather popped out of the toilet and began to attack me. As it feebly hit me over and over on my body ( I was colorfully bruised) I realized that the toilet water from him was drenching me due to his submersion. Hmmm, so I wasn’t drenched per se, but…either way I ended up baptizing the addict instead of murdering him. Now since he was “saved” and since it became an evangelical dilemma–warranted by the baptism–I decided I would try it again. Sinners typically need more than one washing and therefore I gave the addict another, though I flushed to make sure his sins were truly forgiven. PTL! (I must say that the light addict put up quite a fight the 2nd time and I was fearful of him rigorously flapping out once again…is this a metaphorical commentary on the antics and mentalities within Christianity as well? oh me oh my)

Regardless this whole experience reminded me of Bill Gaither and the song my dad would sing to me as I emerged from sleep in the late summer mornings (Up From the Grave She Arose…) Here’s to Bill and all the Light Addicts he’s healed through his music…

wink wink.


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