Friends Don’t Let Friends Die Without Jesus!

was the title at the top of a little postcard I found in my mailbox at work the other day. It was no doubt left there by Lynne who is always leaving me informative things to read like leaflets on “How to handle inappropriate employee behavior” and “How to deal with drug and alcohol issues.” I don’t know what the hell she’s trying to get at with this stuff, but apparently now she fears for my soul.

The postcard says:

If you confess with your lips the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, YOU WILL BE SAVED!!

Is it me, or did you have to read that sentence 4 times to make sense of it?

And it still doesn’t make sense.

Confess with your lips the Lord Jesus?

Wait. What?

And if I confess with my lips the Lord Jesus I’ll be saved?

Saved from what exactly?

Having to do my taxes or take out the garbage or give my husband a blow job?

What?

And it goes on to tell me that all I have to do is say this prayer:

Lord Jesus I am a sinner and I repent of my sins. I believe that Jesus is Lord and that God raised Him from the dead. I ask You, Lord Jesus, to come into my heart, take charge of my life, and give me eternal salvation so that I may live with You forever. Amen.

And this will save me from whatever it is I need to be saved from.

That’s all I have to do.

Uh. Ha.

But what happens if I need to be saved from Jesus and not by him? I mean, let’s say I do the prayer and the whole Jesus, Jesus, bo-beezus hand jive thing and then I’m saved and I get to live with Jesus forever.

That is a very big commitment I’m making to someone I’ve never even met!

What if Jesus turns out to be an asshole of a roommate? What if he clips his toenails in the living room, walks around naked a lot (sans manscaping), and forgets to flush the toilet all the time? And what about the bloody hands and feet all over the couch and all the “I’m the son of God so I can eat the whole bag of Sun Chips whenever I want” bullshit.

And from what I hear about him, he’s bossy and judgemental.

Do I really want this happening at all my parties?

Jesus Christ, No!

I’m just not sure I’m down with Jesus’s particular brand of crazy.

So I’m going to have to pass on this offer, just in case it won’t work out between Jesus and me.

Sorry Jesus.

Oh, yes and we have some business to attend to, don’t we?

Fatty confesses: Exercise, 50 minutes power yoga with sadistic bitch Kristin McGee, weight 124.8 lbs, alcohol units 5, calories 1670, (but mostly wine and salad. Must quit eating so much salad ).

You’re all welcome to join my fatty confessional if you’d like.

It’s what Jesus wants you to do.