All Those Miracles

      I sure hope attendance at your church was better'n my church. Mercy,

pastorin' ain't always easy, now is it? We had us a bunch of sick folk, and

them added to all the shut-ins made for a whole lot uh pew cushion to look

at from the pulpit.

     I got to admit, I was feelin' somewhat put out, but I went ahead and preached

anyhows. Only thing was, with all them people missin' the echo in the

church gave me a hoot of a headache. My wife said I needed to git out and

ride a bit, ˜cause the fresh air would make me feel better.

     Well, she took to drivin' and I took to ridin' and sure 'nuff, she was

right. Not only did my head clear up, but what I saw renewed my faith in

the Good Lord. I tell you, Brother, I seen miracle after miracle!

     My Sunday School superintendent, Hank Weaselbaum had called to tell me that

he was so deathly sick, he wouldn't make it to church. But there he was,

drivin' down the road with his favorite fishin' pole stickin' out the

window. I tell you, only a miracle coulda' snatched him out'a the jaws of

death that way!

     Then there was my head deacon, Wilbur Snooch. He had done left a message on

my answerin' machine that his back was so jerked out'a line that he thought

he might have to have surgery. But I want you to know that when we drove

past the golf course, there he was, hittin' golf balls on the drivin' range.

Hallelujah, our prayers worked!

     Edna Brump sent word with her sister that she wouldn't make it 'cause her

stomach was all upset and she didn't want to take a chance on havin' a

mishap in the church. But glory! There she was, standin' in line at the

Feedin' Trough Smorgasbord; another healin'

     All told, we saw that 20 of our sick folk had takin' a turn

for the better and were up and about. Not only that, but I just couldn't

help from rejoicin' over all our shut-ins that got themselves healed too.

     There was Sam Burply, who don't attend church much causin' of him being

allergic to crowds, and he was in line to buy a ticket at the ball park.

Margaret Guffhunker, who's been feelin' all poor and sickly that she's done

missed the last eight Sundays, she was comin' out of the mall with both arms

full of packages. And then there was Horace Dweedle, who ain't been to

church in six months cause'a his bum knee; he was playin' basketball down at

the park.

     Seein' all these mighty miracles and healin's got me so worked up, I started

singin' the Doxology! Yes, sir, Brother Blowhorn, I'm excited! I just know

we'll be havin' us a packed house next Sunday, what with all the sick and

shut-ins revived by such a touch from Heaven. I look forward to givin' you

a right nice report.

               Your good friend,