I pause for a second and give Him one of Bev's infamous glares. I feel a slight pulse in my neck.
“Wait a minute. Just a message of faith? What else?”
God looks up, rubs His chin, then says, “None I can think of, just a message of faith. Why do you ask? Is that so difficult?”
Now the adrenalin kicks in, and I pace around for a few steps.
I turn toward Him, and in a fit of anger, both of my hands fly up in the air.
“That's it?”
With my voice elevated to a less than angelic volume, I continue, “Back there—” I spin around, pointing in every direction not knowing precisely where 'there' is, and say, “Who cares, where?”
God touches me on the shoulder, “You don't have to yell.”
I jerk away, “I'm not yelling! I'm being emphatic!”
Now it's His turn to comfort me.
“There, there, try to co
