My angel quit her job in the new spirituality department at Wal-Mart, she texted,

as the chain put all the local Churches out of business with its prayer and sermon

department (50 cents a prayer, free sermons from Bangladesh). Guns are $200.

“Didn’t feel good,” she said.

My angel said she was texting me from her new job at Dunkin Donuts – $8 an an hour for 22 hours

and one health benefit: if she dies in the Drive-Thru window, or chokes on a muffin,

her beneficiary gets $$2,000 and a $100 gift card. It was that, she said,

or an analyst’s job at a Hedge Fund. I chose the nourishment industry, she said.

Tough market, she said. Sorry to text, she said, but she

dropped her land line.

She needed help, she said, she had a problem. God wants a blog.

Why text me, I asked? The prophets are lame about this stuff.

You are always blathering on about blogs, she said.

I need some advice.  God is impatient sometimes. You know.

What?, I asked. She is my angel, after all.

Well, God thinks he needs a blog. Reach more people. Be interactive.

Wants all the prophets and Angels to do it. His son, too.

Talk to kids. Sell his ideas a bit. Lots of distractions out there, all this free

stuff on the Internet. Everybody gaming, liking, sharing, tagging. Obsessive stuff.

He’s torn between blowing it all up or jumping in. Turning point sort of thing.

But, God wonders. Should he allow comments?

And, she said, he isn’t into taking advice. Lots of advice on the Internet.

And, she added, some jerk flamed him when he went on Facebook (another issue, she said),

and he turned him into burnt toast in a second. Facebook wants to kick him off.

Could be trouble if they try that.

How about a WordPress blog?, I said. It’s free. He could moderate the comments. Upload

some photos maybe. But he’d have to post every day. People expect that.

Sunday too? Well….

And social media? she wondered. Well, Facebook and Twitter. Tumblr is hot with kids.

I’d need to talk to him, I said.

What about? Well, his writing, for one thing. You can’t really do the God

thing on the Internet. Not the tradition. Got to be more interactive. Share a bit.

Listen some. More informal style. None of this thunder and cherubim stuff.

Oh, she said. Let me get back to you.

I’ve got an SUV with two lab

puppies in the Drive-Thru. Going to slip them a glazed donut, not

one of those little round things.

Love ya, I have to think about the God thing. No need to share this

conversation. If I were U, I wouldn’t.