Day 179

The Prompt: You are waiting in line to see a famous evangelist.  What happens in the line?

“At this rate, I’ll be here for at least two more hours waiting to meet Thad Slessor.  This line hasn’t moved in over fifteen minutes!”  I checked my Facebook notifications, which hadn’t changed since the last five minutes when I checked them.  Bored, I decided to take in my surroundings.

The line I was standing in was located in a park and ended underneath a pavilion where the evangelist was, I assumed, sitting at a table behind a white board signing autographs and praying with people.  The line meandered around trees, the volleyball net, and private picnic tables where families were have cookouts or celebrating birthdays.  I was close to asking one group if they would accept five bucks for a hamburger.  I hadn’t eaten since anything since the bag of Fritos on the drive over.

The other people standing in line were just as diverse to observe.  Some people carried Bibles in their hands, others (families or friends, I assumed), were wearing matching t-shirts that had Slessor’s name on it or the state from where they had traveled.  Some people had traveled hundreds of miles. 

“I’m bored, Mommy!” complained a little boy.

“I know, I know,” an exasperated woman in her late twenties sighed.  “Play with this.”  She handed her son his Gameboy and switched her Bible bag to her other hand.

“Why couldn’t she read him a Bible story?” I thought.

I turned my head when I heard a terrible hacking, coming from a teenager of about sixteen.  She looked rather pale.  I noticed a man in a wheelchair not far behind her. 

“Is your prayer list almost done?” the man in front of me asked the woman standing next to him.

“Yes, I wasn’t sure if I should add an end of the year bonus for you on there, but I figured that would help us buy that hot tub.”

“Oh, good thinking.  I have my mother’s hip replacement surgery on my list.”

“And I added prayers for sister’s dairy allergy.”

The woman directly behind me was complaining about how depressed she had been feeling.  “I’ve been having suicidal thoughts,” she said quietly to her friend.  “I’m hoping Reverend Slessor can help me.”

“Excuse me,” I turned around, feeling sorry for her.  “Would you mind praying with me?  I would love to be able to help you in any way I can.”

“No thanks.  I’ll just wait to pray with Thad Slessor.  Many blessings to you.”

“Thanks.”  My alarm rose steeply as I saw pregnant women, injured pets, and people with other injuries or emotional distress.  I had come here to listen to an inspirational preacher, but these people were treating Thad Slessor as if he was Jesus himself.

“That’s it!  That’s why I have been so disturbed.  Thad Slessor is a man, not a miracle worker.  There is only one Jesus.”  With that, I strode out of line and walked back to my car as quickly as I could, praying as I walked for the misguided souls in that park.