Mrs. Jesus #1/7: Blew Monday

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1 Corinthians 7:34 and his interests are divided. The unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the work of the Lord, how she can be holy in both body and spirit. But the married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world, how she can please her husband.

The scene is a cozy suburban house from the 1950s. Black and white, like in The Dick van Dyke Show or WandaVision. The door opens.

Jesus: Hi honey, I’m home!

I run into his arms and cling tightly to him.

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Poem: Fishy Calling

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Tis a dangerous thing
When our praises we sing
For the role that we play
When we stand up to pray

Tis a good thing to preach
And on Sundays we teach
Don’t you muzzle that ox
He’s worth gold from Fort Knox!

Yet we still must beware
Of putting on airs
When our jobs on the line
Representing divine

Jesus said to not bother
Calling anyone father
Have we screwed up our soul
By playing that role?

Or maybe the curse
Took a turn for the worse
When I paid one to be
The job He gave me

I must be the priest
To reach for the least
I must be the saint
Who goes where God ain’t

The jobs in the church
Are just so much merch
The real game is played
Where souls need be saved

The calling is real
He calls me to heel
And fish where He goes
In a world full of woes

So let’s pay the cost
To be one with the lost
Is it not worth the price
To share footsteps with Christ?

Pride, A Part (Socratic Monologue)

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‘Twas a dark and stormy night.

The elegantly dressed woman walks the empty streets, bundled up against the rain and using an umbrella. It is the 1950s. She looks like Peggy Carter from the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

A man waits in an alley. He wears a hat and a suit, but no overcoat or umbrella. He looks like Marlo Brando in Guys & Dolls. As she approaches, he is lighting a cigarette with a match.

Woman: Thank you for coming.

Man: For you, baby? Always.

W. That… is what I wanted to talk to you about. I… I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

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Redeeming Ares, Part 8: Hermetic Unsealing

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Continued from Part 7

Prologue

I stand at the Twilight of the Gods, having given them the Blessing of Adam and released them from their millennia of service.

I had thought my Quest was simply to destroy my iron ring of Pride;
Which I once jealously guarded but had grown to despise.
But instead Zeus used his bare, bleeding hands to reforge the Ring into a Key.

But for what?

“How can I find the Lock that fits this Key?”

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