Kids seem to just know what makes them come alive. They know what they want to be, do or have. When I was that kid I always wanted to be a prophet. I felt it like some kids felt like growing up to be the president or like Babe Ruth or Micheal Jordan. I wanted to be a prophet like little girls wanted to be Miss America. I wanted to play ball, to dress up, to compete, to be good enough to play with Jordan, or even, whoa, to beat him… I wanted to outdo the prophet Jonah, to play a new and exciting game of we saved that world and brought peace to the land. Then, to hang out with all the great and mighty warriors, poetesses and prophets and talk about upgrades.
The idea of worshiping Jesus or St. Francis or Joseph Smith never did occur to me. Sitting down together and talking about how things work and why. That’s what I imagined doing with them. Planning better ways to play out the game. Discussing even greater possible conquests of the devil and his minions, and making better plans than him. They knew. That’s why they are saviors and doers of great mystical deeds. That’s why they are great stories, myths and legends. I wanted to figure out how. Then to be tested and found worthy; to outdo every one of them. Then, to sit down together rehash it, and do it all over again, like over drinks.
Then, I found out that only boys got to rescue, and to be heroes. Cuz in the one and only true church which (of course) I belong to, only men are able to hold the priesthood. I don’t think it’s about being heavy. It’s just that God ordained it that way. See why I have questions? That, and you can’t do anything worthy without it. Your hands are tied and you don’t have what it takes if you don’t get hold of that damn priesthood. To not have it is like trying to participate in a car race without a car. Every guy wants a car and maybe even to race and to win. Who wouldn’t? I’m not a guy, and I sure as hell wanted to be in on the middle of the fun. Not cheerleading like I was expected to. I wanted to race and to crash and to drive and to win.
So, I double checked since that wasn’t gonna stop me. I asked and studied, and found out that Deborah was a prophetess in the Old Testament. Eliza R. Snow was a Mormon prophetess, too. So, I could be one. There sere few. It was the exception, but it wasn’t impossible. And more rare exceptions are on the way is what I was thinking when I might have been in elementary school, but wasn’t, because in our church it was ordained by God that way.
I had the best start though, cuz at least I was in the one true Church while everyone else, well, they started out wrong and would have to come round to the one and only true church before they even had a chance to be eligible. Muaah haa hah!
I worked at it for years too,–hard.
Then I gave up. It’s the most difficult, and arbitrary complicated, and thankless job.
Then, the worst part about it is the sheer number of clambering prophets claiming the gift, and the calling while all going in dramatically different directions the whole time. Loudly contradicting each other arguing fighting and defaming each other is one big grown. Please.
It’s like a sport. We are gonna be champions!
No! We are the best!
You guys suck! We are gonna win. And our cheerleaders are prettier and cheer better too!
No wonder it’s a man’s world. Woman wouldn’t stand it if they were in charge. Instead we women get to support our priesthood holding husband/prophets against the other false prophets, and support the team, I mean the one right church, and all that.
So, I wanted no part of it. Just the tiny skirt, but not the pom poms or the cheers.
At least I didn’t for a while.
Anyway, being a Jonah is between the person, and their God. But, when called, if you are, no matter if you like the climate or the sour taste of “false prophets” all around you or not, its Nineveh or the belly of the whale, or both.
Got to thinking. Everyone isn’t called to Nineveh, and not at the same time, either. Nor is there just one prophet or project out there. Like turning that city Nineveh around to avoid destruction. God knows people, families, companies, institutions, businesses, we all need to get turned around to avoid destruction, rock bottom, divorce, collapse, bankruptcy some time or other. I guess there is one assigned prophet at a time per specific job. But god damn. There are lots of prophets everywhere doing weird, and unimaginable stuff. So, I guess there are lots of weird and unimaginable projects and lots of mysterious work to do. Prophets are the ones weird, and crazy enough to do it, like entrepreneurs.
I mean its God, the I Am. The One Way, God. Yet, He tells different people to do different things. So, just for my own sanity, I figured. Either God is insane or I am. But, on the other hand its said that God is great, unimaginable, wild and powerful and no man holds his counsel. So, well, I don’t either. And if the unmeasurable, omnipotent, incalculable loving intelligent crazy Being called hundreds of people and asked/commanded/inspired them to do totally different, often freaky and impossible contradictory things and NOT to do what the other guys, also called, and ordained by God are doing… Did I mention sanity? Its like God has one group exclusively fanatically apart and different from what “God” tells everyone else, who listens, to do. It’s like okay you folks over here, I want you guys to only mix up such ingredients as I command you:
Flour, milk, shorting, butter, sugar, apples, and salt and water (and I command you to only substitute healthy alternatives) as needed. You can mix it up and bake it, or fry it or whatever works out best however you want. But its an abomination to add or take away any word of this commandment anything, but cinnamon to that. And never, ever add black pepper, though it looks like cinnamon, or you will be damned.
To another limited and poor group only potatoes, salt, butter milk and sour cream are allowed by God’s commandments.
Others have to sacrifice a turkey, and roast it in some exclusive way that does includes black pepper and does not include cinnamon. As a matter of fact cinnamon is forbidden.
God is crazy.
Isn’t He the same yesterday today, and forever? Isn’t He supposed to give the same commandments? Isn’t there a rule some were?
That and isn’t there a great banquette prepared in our Father’s house for The Faithful?
Yep. It looks that way.
And I’ll be damned by all if I bring peppered apple pie to it. And you’ll be damned by all, if you bring pepper in your pumpkin pie,too. And I’ll be so damned sad if there is black pepper in my pecan pie! Damn. You god damn better get it right. And I’ll be damned by everyone if I’m in charge of the gravy and I doesn’t show up with it. Or, if I add cinnamon to it instead of black pepper. I better follow the Word of God, and His Recipe for it is the same yesterday today and forever, if you are cooking up an American Thanksgiving banquette.
Everyone and Guests are welcome, I hear. But someone has to buy, organize decorate set the tables, cook and serve for it to be a party. I’m guessing the Lord of Hosts is hosting since its His house and all.
And what is a party without the drinks?
Who is bringing the drinks?