| General Non-Fiction posted October 20, 2021 |
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How Scott conjured a ''blizzard''
Finagling a Respite
by Elizabeth Emerald
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
My friend Chuck is a "by The Book" Christian.
My friend Scott is a paradoxical Christian.
A board member of the National Baptist Convention, he hosts visiting missionaries, turning over his living quarters and camping on a cot in the cellar.
Scott supports local churches by tending to repairs and menial tasks, but rarely attends services; he is unimpressed by what he considers simplistic ideology and insipid sermons. He doesn't expect, nor hope, to go to heaven; he yearns for oblivion.
Scott cannot reconcile God's purported benevolence with His omnipotence. Famous quotation: "What kind of sonof@b!t(h sends his son to get tortured?"
His cognitive dissonance notwithstanding, Scott persists in seeking an explanation of God's mercurial nature. He has faith that there is an explanation, despite that it continues to elude him.
Enter Chuck.
Disturbed by contemplating the ramifications of Scott's oxymoronic belief system, Chuck has taken it upon himself to enlighten him.
Nearly every Saturday for the past two years, Chuck would show up at Scott's repair shop, three minutes before closing time, with a pair of religious CDs for Scott's edification.
Scott finds the CD preachers pompous and bombastic. Still seeking answers, he suffers through the diatribes, ever hopeful for resolution.
After suffering a year of relentless disappointment, Scott, demoralized, was desperate for a break.
One Saturday morning last January, noticing flurries, Scott turned on the news for a weather report.
Noting the predicted accumulation and wind speed, he hurried to phone Chuck to warn him not to come over, given the snowstorm pending.
Whilst talking to Chuck, Scott had muted the television, lest Chuck should overhear: "... expected dusting, ceasing by two p.m."
My friend Chuck is a "by The Book" Christian.
My friend Scott is a paradoxical Christian.
A board member of the National Baptist Convention, he hosts visiting missionaries, turning over his living quarters and camping on a cot in the cellar.
Scott supports local churches by tending to repairs and menial tasks, but rarely attends services; he is unimpressed by what he considers simplistic ideology and insipid sermons. He doesn't expect, nor hope, to go to heaven; he yearns for oblivion.
Scott cannot reconcile God's purported benevolence with His omnipotence. Famous quotation: "What kind of sonof@b!t(h sends his son to get tortured?"
His cognitive dissonance notwithstanding, Scott persists in seeking an explanation of God's mercurial nature. He has faith that there is an explanation, despite that it continues to elude him.
Enter Chuck.
Disturbed by contemplating the ramifications of Scott's oxymoronic belief system, Chuck has taken it upon himself to enlighten him.
Nearly every Saturday for the past two years, Chuck would show up at Scott's repair shop, three minutes before closing time, with a pair of religious CDs for Scott's edification.
Scott finds the CD preachers pompous and bombastic. Still seeking answers, he suffers through the diatribes, ever hopeful for resolution.
After suffering a year of relentless disappointment, Scott, demoralized, was desperate for a break.
One Saturday morning last January, noticing flurries, Scott turned on the news for a weather report.
Noting the predicted accumulation and wind speed, he hurried to phone Chuck to warn him not to come over, given the snowstorm pending.
Whilst talking to Chuck, Scott had muted the television, lest Chuck should overhear: "... expected dusting, ceasing by two p.m."
My friend Scott is a paradoxical Christian.
A board member of the National Baptist Convention, he hosts visiting missionaries, turning over his living quarters and camping on a cot in the cellar.
Scott supports local churches by tending to repairs and menial tasks, but rarely attends services; he is unimpressed by what he considers simplistic ideology and insipid sermons. He doesn't expect, nor hope, to go to heaven; he yearns for oblivion.
Scott cannot reconcile God's purported benevolence with His omnipotence. Famous quotation: "What kind of sonof@b!t(h sends his son to get tortured?"
His cognitive dissonance notwithstanding, Scott persists in seeking an explanation of God's mercurial nature. He has faith that there is an explanation, despite that it continues to elude him.
Enter Chuck.
Disturbed by contemplating the ramifications of Scott's oxymoronic belief system, Chuck has taken it upon himself to enlighten him.
Nearly every Saturday for the past two years, Chuck would show up at Scott's repair shop, three minutes before closing time, with a pair of religious CDs for Scott's edification.
Scott finds the CD preachers pompous and bombastic. Still seeking answers, he suffers through the diatribes, ever hopeful for resolution.
After suffering a year of relentless disappointment, Scott, demoralized, was desperate for a break.
One Saturday morning last January, noticing flurries, Scott turned on the news for a weather report.
Noting the predicted accumulation and wind speed, he hurried to phone Chuck to warn him not to come over, given the snowstorm pending.
Whilst talking to Chuck, Scott had muted the television, lest Chuck should overhear: "... expected dusting, ceasing by two p.m."
 Recognized |
#21 October 2021 |
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