What you won’t hear in Sunday School

And God in His infinite wisdom shuffled and cut a gigantic deck of playing cards.  “Lucky draw,” He smiled, flipping over the ace of diamonds.  He handed the coveted lot to a young female spirit.  “Have a pleasant life.”  With long flaxen hair free of split-ends, sparkling eyes as blue as a break in a cloudy sky, and a body that the destined-to-be mothers of her future junior high school classmates would die for, Amber Elizabeth Remington would never want for anything during her sojourn on Earth.  Kind of like Barbie.

“King of spades,” God said aloud, dealing a high card to the next in line.  The boy would grow up to be President of the United States.  He’d be well liked and make good policies, but lack the ability to make decisions capable only of an ace.  Chances are he’d have an obsession of some sort.

The road for these lucky ones would be well paved and often resurfaced.

A young male protégé drew a six of clubs.  Dreaming of practicing law, he’d settle to be an insurance salesman.  Later in life, he’d be elected to political office after a brief career as a wrestler.

God came to another and stood.  The faint fluttering of a card slipping from His fingertips pierced the silence.  It landed facedown in front of her.  The timid spirit stooped to retrieve her lot in life.  She hesitantly turned the card over and gazed at the lowly two of hearts.  Disappointment welled in her eyes, staining her irises the shade of a gloomy day in Seattle.  This forlorn angel would venture through life on a rockier road.

She wistfully fondled the card in her hand, tracing the red digit with her fingertips.  Tears spilled from her eyes.  Feeling His gaze upon her, she brushed her hands across her cheeks and lifted her head.

A loving stare met her dreary blue eyes.  What He didn’t give her in direction, He’d make up for in compassion.  And a sense of humor, He mustn’t forget that.  Yes, she’d endure a destiny flavored with the contrite poetry of a laid-off Hallmark jingle writer, but she’d have the resolve to tackle obstacles of great bodily proportion, possibly earning multiple Gold Keys from Weight Watchers.

His countenance radiated confidence, coaxing the corners of her mouth to curl upwards and spurring a flow of words.  Almost like a reflex.  Or a prayer.  “I’ll be the best Two of Hearts I can be,” she vowed.

And that is how I imagined I came to be.