The Hand of God

I work in an office full of people who go to church on a regular basis but because I don't, they often assume that I have no faith or beliefs of my own. To them, I am the office heathen and that's fine. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, as long as me and the Almighty understand each other.

I try to take a moment each morning to just close my eyes and ask for a bit of peace, help in being a better person, etc. This morning was no different and when everyone got settled in to their routine and things quieted down a bit, I folded my hands, closed my eyes and quietly made my requests and inquiries, giving thanks, the usual stuff. I was startled a bit when during my regular routine I heard a soft yet manly voice, seemingly whispering from the air.

"Mahala"

I wasn't sure if I'd heard it or imagined it, when I heard it again, still whispered but with slightly more urgency.

"Mahala"

I thought, "God? Is that you?" I was excited because after forty one years, boy howdy did I have some questions I needed answered.

"Mahala.. are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Weren't you listening? And besides, don't you know all? Hear all? Wouldn't you know if I weren't okay??"

It was then that I felt a touch upon my shoulder, which caused me to jump three feet. Apparently the Almighty didn't appreciate my snippy answer to his question of concern and now I was going to be smited (smitted? smite? smitified?) by the very hand of God. I was afraid but I slowly opened my eyes and was shocked to see the bald head, glasses and bulging eyes that looked suspiciously like Bossman.

I'm not sure if I was relieved or disappointed. I was definitely embarrassed.