THE PRAYER CLOSET
My first weird spam call on a cell phone! It was a recorded message from an excited man calling from deep inside a "prayer closet" in an undisclosed location. Here was his message:
"I called you because God urged me and spoke to me about praying for YOU,
Being a prayer partner,
Being someone that’s standing on the sidelines,
Praying that every day your needs will be met.
If you’re ready to join my prayer closet where I pray over thousands of people,
And YOU are the only one that is missing,
I want you to press a zero so I can transfer this call to the prayer closet,
And so this way I can have your information so I can begin to start praying for you NON-STOP.
If you’re really ready, press zero right now,
Because I KNOW that your miracle is right around the corner.
Your struggle will be over.
Press zero now to be transferred to the prayer closet."
At the end, a nether-worldly robotic voice said, "To be removed from this call list please press 3 now." Yeah, press 3 and you're roasting in hell for all eternity, you and all the others who refuse to press zero and join the disembodied voice with the run-on sentence fragments who will pray for you NON-STOP in his dark, cramped closet in his double-wide in the wilds of Michigan or Idaho or wherever it is that he's based his tax-exempt prayer closet empire.
I'd never heard the term "prayer closet" so I googled it. 175,000 hits. Who knew? Last generation's "sewing room" is this generation's "prayer closet." You can build one right in your own home, next to the panic room. In fact, to save space I'd suggest making a multi-functional room where you can pray AND panic. Pray that the Apocalypse won't come, but if (...sorry...WHEN...) it does, make sure those steel doors are thick enough to keep out the fire and serpents. (And IRS auditors. And local, state, and federal bunko squads.)
Or if you don't want to go to the trouble of making your own prayer closet and exerting all that effort to commune quietly with God, press zero now, and pay someone to do the job for you. Like you do with your lawn guy. Or your dog-walker.
"I called you because God urged me and spoke to me about praying for YOU,
Being a prayer partner,
Being someone that’s standing on the sidelines,
Praying that every day your needs will be met.
If you’re ready to join my prayer closet where I pray over thousands of people,
And YOU are the only one that is missing,
I want you to press a zero so I can transfer this call to the prayer closet,
And so this way I can have your information so I can begin to start praying for you NON-STOP.
If you’re really ready, press zero right now,
Because I KNOW that your miracle is right around the corner.
Your struggle will be over.
Press zero now to be transferred to the prayer closet."
At the end, a nether-worldly robotic voice said, "To be removed from this call list please press 3 now." Yeah, press 3 and you're roasting in hell for all eternity, you and all the others who refuse to press zero and join the disembodied voice with the run-on sentence fragments who will pray for you NON-STOP in his dark, cramped closet in his double-wide in the wilds of Michigan or Idaho or wherever it is that he's based his tax-exempt prayer closet empire.
I'd never heard the term "prayer closet" so I googled it. 175,000 hits. Who knew? Last generation's "sewing room" is this generation's "prayer closet." You can build one right in your own home, next to the panic room. In fact, to save space I'd suggest making a multi-functional room where you can pray AND panic. Pray that the Apocalypse won't come, but if (...sorry...WHEN...) it does, make sure those steel doors are thick enough to keep out the fire and serpents. (And IRS auditors. And local, state, and federal bunko squads.)
Or if you don't want to go to the trouble of making your own prayer closet and exerting all that effort to commune quietly with God, press zero now, and pay someone to do the job for you. Like you do with your lawn guy. Or your dog-walker.