THE POWER OF PRAYER

There’s no doubt God loves me as evidenced by the results of a recent body scan at a Harley Street specialist’s premises, this an appointment made unasked by an English mate worried about me.

The reason I was there were terrible pains in my right upper chest which as it turned out, my Sydney‑based ex‑wife, still very much part of my family who was with us, correctly forecast were gall stones, not life‑threatening and easily fixed.

But she almost dropped dead with shock, when running over the survey the specialist reported my liver was in first rate condition. So after half a century of a daily two bottles of red and a recent years hammering from all and sundry about the probable state of my liver, leading to an unpleasant moderation period, normal consumption has now been resumed.

On that topic the ex’ made an interesting observation to me in Sydney a month back.

“You must have the most unusual office in the world,” she remarked, referring to our Wellington headquarters. I should point out that she regularly comes over to stay and when here, always pops into the office to say hello to everyone while I only go in occasionally to get my typing done.

“You mean the artwork and lavishness,” I responded.

“Well yes, that’s special but it’s not that,” and she went on to say how weird she finds it to say turn up in early afternoon, greet the receptionist and go from office to office and literally everyone including the receptionist are beavering away with a glass of red in hand and an open bottle beside them.

“What, everyone?” I asked surprised.

“No, no, but quite often,” she replied.

I was delighted to hear this as while it’s contrary to received thinking I genuinely believe it’s a huge factor vis a vis our results. I reminded her that our principal bank claims we’re the most efficient company of any on their books in New Zealand.

So the anti‑alcohol prudes can stick that in their pipe and smoke it, indeed on that note my lungs also passed with flying colours, doubtless God’s influence again considering my 65 years of smoking.

So why is God favouring me in this fashion? That’s easily answered. For half a century, at every opportunity, I’ve ridiculed religion. In response I’ve literally received hundreds of letters from the faithful, saying they’re praying for me. Plainly it’s worked.

 

2 Comments

Damn good to hear, besides, something has to kill you, there must be worse ways to go than the consequences of enjoying ones self and the company of others with tales tall and true along with the regular imbibing of decent red wine. As Mark Twain once observed, if you drink, smoke and swear, but then get diagnosed with an illness at least you can give up drinking and smoking so as to recover while those who are pure of heart body and mind are doomed as they have no bad habits to give up In order to get well, I think I’ll have another red please

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Thanks Bob for my laugh out loud moment of the day. Please keep the astute observations on heaven and earth coming. Am especially pleased about your evidence that God exists after all. That’s socking it to the rationalists!

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