Silence of Mind recounts a true-life story where the disciple (yours truly) is presented with his very own MISSION FROM GOD.

Silence of Mind being neither of sound mind or body but none the less, a hardy survivor of the great American Bible Belt, does bear witness to the workings of  God most merciful.Blue's BrothersAnd whereas, most devout Christian men hallucinate themselves to be great Pauline preachers of the Gospel of Wisdom, God has laid his heavy hand on the back of Silence of Mind so that he might crawl on his belly like a reptile, his speech being merely the soundless flicking of forked tongue.

“Woe to you who come under the spell of the wily priest.” – anonymous

Many moons ago, I went to Confession to be absolved of my sins.  The priest as is usual gave me penance (an activity, action or prayer of atonement).  I was to do a favor, a kindness for someone.  The catch was that I couldn’t cook up the act of kindness myself.  I had to wait for any random someone to ask me for it.

“Oh brother!” I thought, “What if my sister asks to cut her lawn, rake all the leaves and clean her house?”

I’ll have to say yes, and then my goose will be cooked for the rest of my life.  God couldn’t be so cruel and heartless could he?

DON’T ANSWER THAT QUESTION!

The next day I was driving through the wilderness to the nearest town whose size was large enough for a super Walmart.

When lo and behold someone was standing out in the middle of road flagging me down. Traffic was nearly nonexistent on that early Sunday morning so I felt bound to stop and find out what was what.

It turns out that the young man in the middle of road had attended a nearby secret wilderness rave the night before, and he had become so stinking, blackout drunk that everyone just up and left him after the rave had run its course.  He was hungry and deserted and in bad need of a ride back to town.

Immediately I remembered my Penance promise to help the next person who asked me for a favor.

Apparently, God wanted me to provide better than Uber taxi service for a stinking drunk whose friends didn’t think enough of him to load him up in one of their own vehicles and take him home after the night’s drug fueled revelry.

When I say “stinking drunk” I am not being mean.  That kid STUNK.  In fact, he stunk so bad that his rank odor was glued to the interior walls of my sweet little pick up truck for over three weeks!

During the ride back to town, the stinking kid must have sensed my utter disgust. Yes, I was a slave of the Lord but that stinking kid was utterly disgusting anyway. His odor really got to me and I suppose I was having just a little trouble concealing my visceral disdain for his putrefaction.

He asked me if everything was okay.

I replied quite seriously, “For me, today, you are the will the God.”

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