God and the whistle

Every time I go in, I mean God.

I realized that this is contrary to the common word association associated with the word "word", but hears it. People only have sunshine, mountains, dolphins, the peak of sexual congress, or even the Red Sox World Championship. Only God can think of something majestic. Why?

The problem is, in fact, that people are thought to be disciplined in the nature of God. The god we created in our mind is a great figure in a flowing robe. He created our world and everything in it – or they said. The problem is that if you create everything then your brain, your lungs and your circulatory system will certainly be the expression of the divine expression. Maybe the digestive processes will be less?

In fact, in this world, farting is so widespread that methane accounts for a significant part of our atmosphere. The livestock is the most source of livestock. The question is whether God saw the need for methane in our atmosphere, and that mammals were specifically prepared to fulfill this requirement?

I understand that most people have a problem related to things like smoking, but I think it's just mental conditioning. If God is everywhere and everywhere, smoking is certainly part of the divine. In fact, what we find unpleasant is actually part of our creator (whatever its form).

Consider Teresa's mother. He was once asked how he could continue, day by day, among the infinitely ill patients in Calcutta, India. The answer? "It is not difficult because I see the face of Christ in one of the most disturbing disguises in each."

If the divine is found among patients in the infinite disease in Calcutta, it does not even exist in the crowded elevator in Milwaukee, where the result of someone's previous bratwurst celebration and beer may not be the odorless silence. zefirévé? Isn't the memory of the proximity of the unintended ordinary approach to the miracle?

We've all experienced it. I remember a particularly long senior employee who meets with an afternoon of a very pleasant spring day, complemented by an seemingly endless disaster of mind-disruptive PowerPoint performances, each longer than our pre-soul, silent theft, and our challenge of being aware of it when – from the room – someone moved in their place and horrified a brilliant dance that sounded like a horn of fog in the middle.

What a sweet relief! The room was immediately filled with the voice of the 20 odd professionals who tried to stifle the unlawful mockery of the impertinent trumpet, but tried to stifle the sound that this audible report caused. Soon we laughed out loud – the contrast between the sober, professional environment and the dorm-quality riff exceeded our ability to end the stone's indifference.

This memory gives me a laugh every time I think. I came to see the swelling. The glorious retreat of the conference room, the decoration and the social strata broke out in every sense. From the low-level supervisor to the gilded, gray-haired directors and vice-presidents, they all laughed. Both men and women were pleased to face the anonymous anus from the room.

The term rat-a-tat was more than a cut cheese. It was a timely reminder that the meeting was really too long and that we were a man.

I think God saw that sometimes we would need a long meeting boring, something joyful. This sensitivity, like the piece of the etheric part, seems to come from far away, but I think the exclusion of the graces of God from the Litany is to place something natural in the realm of evil.

Is it actually less absurd than the wickedness of the rebellion as the divine inspiration of human digestion?

I don't think so.

© 2011 by George Jones

Source by George F Jones

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