Is God questionable? I mean is HE able to be questioned? I was reading a book and in it the author wrote the sentence, “We all have questions we are saving for God.” I started thinking about what questions I had tucked away in that special place reserved for God. Those things that would burst from my mouth the instant I crossed over into heaven; the kinds of inquiries that couldn’t be corralled until after I got my mansion. Burning questions that must be answered before trudging off to fish the Crystal River.
I have tried to narrow my scope to five. These things are the stuff that keeps me up at night.
- If women want to attract men by using a perfume or fragrance, why do they use floral scents? I don’t know a man alive who, when catching the wafting aroma of petunias, thinks “I must find the source of that divinity.” I have never been drawn to flower smells. Ladies, if you want to get a man’s attention dab a little Char-grilled meat on your pulse points. That’s right; a man is slave to the barbeque. Grill some meat, maybe kabobs, and let the succulent smells of open-air cooking seep into your pores. Then sit back and watch the fellas come a runnin’.
- Why can’t I open a bag a cereal? You know, I open the box just fine but then there’s this plastic bag inside made from recycled aircraft carriers. No matter how I pull that thing it explodes with the force of an atom bomb sending whatever class of breakfast wonder I purchased, to the farthest reaches of my home. I know what you’re thinking–scissors. HA! Something in the molecular structure of the bag causes it to convert into basically plasticized toilet tissue when touched by scissors. If I cut the bag it will inevitably begin to form fissures in every direction dumping the contents of my crunchy delight into the box where on my next visit I find considerably-less-crunchy delight.
- Why is there always just enough milk left NOT to make what I want? I could buy a tanker truck of milk, park it in the yard and start to make pancakes, only to find that entire truck as dry as the Mojave Desert. I could buy a cow, stuff it with the finest grasses known to man and give it a squeeze just to find a dairy dust cloud forming.
- Why does something infinitely better and cheaper come out 11 seconds after I leave the store with my purchase? It doesn’t matter what it is, I buy it and one with fifty more features at 125% off is being put on display as I leave. It’s like I buy an iPad and it turns into an 8-track player right before my eyes. I buy a wide-screen laptop and it turns into an abacus. I buy an Armani suit and it turns into Sears Tough Skins and a family reunion t-shirt. The moment my cash makes the exchange to the clerk my purchase is made obsolete by the next great thing.
- Why is there always a 1000-year-old man with an aversion to 30 mph driving directly in front of me when I’m late? It doesn’t matter what lane I’m in or how I NASCAR my way through traffic, Millennium Man is always in front. It’s as if there is a time-space continuum in front of my car. Like some sort of destined-to-be-late wormhole that sucks the delay driver up front to block my progress. It turns into a vehicular version of the movie Groundhog Day. I keep passing the same guy just to catch up to… the same guy. Get him off the road.
That’s what I have lined up for the Creator of the Universe when I get to heaven. Tough ones to be sure but He can handle it. Oh yeah, I forgot. Why couldn’t my Granny live long enough to meet my kids?
How about you, you got any questions you’re saving for God?