On Saturday afternoons I usually doze. The wine from the Sabbath meal, along with all the other medicines I take usually does me in. I sleep and usually find myself waking up around sunset.
This Saturday afternoon, after lunch, I didn’t doze. I tried to keep the thoughts of finances and money worries away from the edges of my mind, aware that after the Sabbath, they would come roaring back with a vengeance. They always do.
I looked at the computer – shut as always for the Sabbath. I longed to get on and type a story and send it off to Blogcritics…
I felt a Presence nearby.
Baldy? Nobody ever called me Baldy before – not that the name didn’t fit…..
YEAH, YOU. I GET TO CALL YOU BALDY. I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY.
Automatically, I thought, “Well, can’t you call me Reuven?”
MOSES HATED ME CALLING HIM BY HIS NAME. SAMUEL HATED ME CALLING HIM BY HIS NAME. YOU? YOU’RE LUCKY I SHOW UP AT ALL!
I had an idea of Who was around. Hanging around His heaven might be a very difficult experience. Especially if it was going to be for eternity.
YOU KNOW, BALDY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO HANG AROUND MY HEAVEN AFTER YOU DIE. DIFFERENT ARRAGNGEMENTS CAN BE MADE, YOU KNOW.
I was starting to get annoyed. “For my wife, you always show up as a warm blanket. Me you call Baldy?”
I SEE YOU DON’T COMPREHEND THE BASICS, KID. G-D OF SUFFICIENCY. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?
I SEE YOU DON’T. LET ME CLUE YOU IN. YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED. YOUR WIFE NEEDS A BLANKET. IF YOU NEEDED A WARM BLANKET LIKE YOUR WIFE DOES, I’D BE A WARM BLANKET. YOU, BALDY, NEED A KICK IN THE ASS. BUT I HAVEN’T GOT TIME TO SHOOT THE BREEZE. I CAME TO GIVE YOU SOME PERSONAL TUTORING.
Now I was very uncomfortable. Already on the edge of losing a spot in Heaven, learning that G-d felt that I needed a kick in the ass…