SMS from God

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A woman was feeling lonely, desperate. A middle aged woman. In fact, that’s what a young paramour told her: She was lonely and desperate. That was a year ago. And no dating since. And now her health conditions have worsened. The gynecologist showed her a picture of something in her uterus, a large shining globe like the top of an alien’s head, the whole of a crystal ball. She was old enough to have given birth to her paramour, and now this. She remembers telling him: When you are alone paying your own bills and worrying about fixing your own house and taking care of your health, things are a bit different. Asshole. Well, she didn’t call him that, but she wanted to. He still lived with his parents, to her shame, among piles of books and hoards of cats.

Brother Lawrence Bible Verses 4 You promised to deliver daily Bible verses by text, every day for 40 days. Part of the course was to write in a journal and by the end of it track spiritual growth. Before this scheme, she had thought she might start writing letters to herself or composing texts to herself, some which might be Bible verses. In her letters, she would say the things she wanted to hear from others but didn’t – reassurances, promises of love, apologies. She would pretend to be others and sign their names. She needed to feel better, somehow. And she would do anything.

But the Brother Lawrence thing seemed so much more direct. Sure, Bible verses were connected in some ways to dark memories of her upbringing, but she wouldn’t have to put forth as much effort to think of them and send them to herself. It was a service she could receive for once and perhaps it could feel more like a gift. One she had given herself every day when she signed up. Now that she was divorced and without prospects, she wasn’t beyond sending flowers to herself at Valentine’s, for example, but at what cost. She had grown tired. And now she was sick. And in need of an operation.

The site did not send her any texts.

She called Brother Lawrence, the customer service line listed on the site. There was some music on the hold line, the familiar flute and organ instrumental “Sheep May Safely Graze.” How many times had she been to church and listened to that song. She had even sung that song in a church choir. And now it was coming through all scratchy on the Brother Lawrence help line.

“Hello?” said a wavering voice, finally, picking up the call. It sounded like an older woman.

There were no formalities to help the situation and so she proceeded. “Look I signed up to receive your Bible verse texts, which I think is a wonderful service. But I haven’t received a verse yet.”

“We are just a nonprofit aiming to do our best,” said the woman and there was the sound of a chiming clock behind her.

“Isn’t it automated so that once I sign up I begin to receive verses?”

“I don’t know.”

There was some silence between them.

What more could be said.

“Thank you,” said the woman and hung up.

Maybe the older woman on the helpline had been hinting that they needed a donation to activate the verses.

The money required to get her uterus out, alien head and all, mitigated against charitable donations.

Yet another nothing is for free moment. And so she rejoined the dog eat dog world, got over her depression, got rid of her uterus, went back to the gym, took her life back, went back to school and eventually got a job.

A few months later she received a text from Brother Lawrence: “God loves you.”