Pitchin’ Pine Knots

My husband is the only person I know who looks forward to having  religious visitors drop by in hopes of illuminating and converting him.  We used to have fairly regular concerned visitors from various denominations come to call, but I fear his reputation has spread and our house bears a hidden mark of some type, warning the pious to avoid us like the plague.

Don’t get me wrong.  He is is a good man, truly hospitable, even offering refreshment and a comfortable chair.  The problem comes when they get into theology.  He is really, really philosophically interested, asking dozens of questions,   He gets animated, particularly when answers are convoluted, as religious doctrine often is.  When one group told him only one hundred forty-four thousand would rule for a thousand years, he asked them why in the world they were recruiting competition for those few spots.  He got one young lady started giggling.  I’m sure she got a stern lecture after she and her grumpy mentor departed.  We only got about one more Thursday morning visit from that group after that.

Another pair came calling from another congregation.  He visited at length with them, took their literature, and made arrangements for them to visit the next Thursday.  He read every word of their literature, enjoyed it thoroughly, and couldn’t wait for their return.  He had a lot more questions than they had answers when they got back.  He wasn’t mean.  He just kept thinking he’d missed something.  They all ended up finishing up the patio he’d been working on for a couple of weeks.   The promised t come back the next  Thursday, but they ditched him.  I think they decided he could just go to Hell.