When I answered my door around 3AM last night with my short sword pulled and pointed at the neck of the man knocking I didn't expect him to be crying. But then, drunks at the door at 3AM really only have a few choices -- be crying, be yelling, be demanding a drink, or be falling down.

He said he would pray for me. He said he cared very much for my soul, and when Armageddon comes in December, he will cradle me in his arms and bring me to the light. He moved toward me, arms open.

I said, "If you move another step closer, I will gut you and use your spilt entrails to lasso Jesus for myself."

He said, "See? You already desire to be closer to Jesus." Then began weeping openly as he and his guts walked away.

permalink