Blue Genie

Speaking of scuffed soul floors, I'm just going to clean up some skid marks.

This will kind of probably offend you, but ohhh welllll. ~ Jenn Johnson

I feel ya, Jenn.

God is.... who you want Him to be. God is... heaven to the lonely. Show me... what you want Him to do. God is what I've got for yooooou...

Sing along if you know it.

Doctrine is rapidly going the way of all things – things like vows and decency, the love of the truth, grammar and spelling and sentence structure. These are guidelines, really. Does doctrine really matter any more? Does anything really matter any more? I mean, does anything really matter any more? Does anything really matter any more? What, if anything, matters any more? Any matter does more anything, really.

Huh?

What I'm saying is, isn't the Holy Spirit just whoever you say the Holy Spirit is? That's not in the Bible, but maybe it is, who knows? It's a mystery. If you Google “what is the holy spirit”, it's there. Also you could just take my word for it, because – revelation. I'm not saying I had a revelation. I'm just saying – revelation. You can go ahead and read what wikipedia says about the Holy Spirit, just don't cite it anywhere because wikipedia is not a reliable source. But pretty much everything else on Google is reliable. Also, you know what else is reliable? You are. What great truth does Google hold, that you don't already know somewhere deep within yourself? Like I said, this is all subjective anyway.

If you say the Holy Spirit is a genie in a bottle, well then, who am I to say otherwise? Everybody loves a genie. Who doesn't love a genie? You just rub them the right way, and BAM! Power from on high. Beeteedubs, you know who else is a genie in a bottle and likes to be rubbed the right way? Christina Aguilera. But I digress.

I hear that Holy Spirit genie likes to be rubbed on the Internets, 24/7, with magic chanting words like,

Go ahead God and do what you do, do what you do, do what you do. Go ahead God and do what you do, do what you do, do what you do. Open up the heavens and do what you do, do what you do, do what you do. Release the Kraken!

Oh sorry, wrong movie.

Come Holy Spirit where you can be you, where you can be you, where you can be you.

We release you, Holy Spirit.

You can be yourself here.

Beeeeee yourself.

Infinite power. Itty bitty living space.

I'm kinda probably offending you... Ohhh wellllll.

Honestly, at this point to argue for anything otherwise would be a bit like throwing a dictionary at an immigrant and yelling, learn the language! First of all, rudeness. But also, language, like doctrine, is built on so, so much more than words – it's 80's song references, and it's idioms and infinitives and punctuation.

How do I begin to explain all that is wrong with vain imaginings of the Holy Spirit as the genie from Aladdin? I. Can't. Even.

You said 'wrong'.

       Yes. I also punctuated in. The. Middle. Of a sentence.

Oh my gosh, you can't just tell someone that they're wrong.

       WRONG.

Donald Trump. Bringing wrong back since 2016.

Somebody put that on a t-shirt, that's a million dollars right there. Again, I digress.

This is 2017. You can't tell people what they should or should not believe.

The Purpose Driven Life is the best book I have ever read!

     Ok! I support your right to believe that!

The earth is flat!

     Flat is the new round! Love the shape you're on!

My Holy Spirit is a blue genie!

     My Holy Spirit is orange with fuzzy fur!

          I think I have the Holy Spirit in a box in my parents' basement!

Forget about repentance – it's all about reinventance! I just made that word up. It's a word now – you can use it. As in:

Hey, you know that really fantastic movie that everybody loved that was just great the way it was?

     Yes.

Let's reinventance it!

     Yes!

Save the gramma fer ur mamma. As in:

I heard you were sick yesterday.

     Nah bruh.I b sick erry day

Your grammar is atrocious.

     Ur grammar smells like elder berries

So what? What's it to you? What's it to you if my Holy Spirit is a silly blue genie and his skin matches my pants, and I'm going to hug him and squeeze him and tickle him and call him Silly, and he's going to give me a pony and tell me secrets and wash his robes in the blood of my enemies... oh, wait, did I say that part out loud? Don't you have some floors you should be washing?

Blasphemy and heresy are antiquated notions, you silly curmudgeon – you relic of the past – you, you, you judger. You know who else is silly? My blue Holy Spirit. He's sneaky and he's errywhere. Er.ry.where. And anyway, I'm swimming out of my depths if I pretend that I'm anything close to either a grammatician or a theologian. And it is 2017 – at least, on my calendar it is 2017. It can be whatevvvver        year      you     think    it is. But you can't start a sentence with the word but or and. Well, you can, as long as you know you're not supposed to. You have to know the rules before you can break them. That's called poetic licence, which is a literary term and should not ever be confused with licentiousness, which is a small matter of doctrine – and is not at all the same, at all, except for sometimes.

Whatevs.

Psalm 139

O Lord, Thou has searched me and known me,

Thou dost know when I sit down and when I rise up;

Thou dost understand my thoughts from afar,

Thou dost scrutinize my path and my lying down,

And art intimately acquainted with all my ways,

Even before there is a word on my tongue,

Behold, O Lord, Thou dost know it all,

Thou has enclosed me behind and before,

And laid Thy hand upon me,

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;

It is too high, I cannot attain to it.

Where can I go from Thy Spirit?

Or where can I flee from Thy presence?

If I ascend to heaven, Thou art there;

If I make my bed in Sheol,

behold Thou art there.

If I take the wings of the dawn,

If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

Even there Thy hand will lead me,

And Thy right hand will lay hold of me.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,

And the light around me will be night,”

Even the darkness is not dark to Thee,

And the night is as bright as the day.

Darkness and light are alike to Thee.

For Thou didst form my inward parts;

Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb.

I will give thanks to Thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made

Wonderful are Thy works,

And my soul knows it very well.

My frame was not hidden from Thee,

When I was made in secret,

And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth.

Thine eyes have seen my unformed substance;

And in Thy book they were all written,

The days that were ordained for me,

When as yet there was not one of them.

How precious also are Thy thoughts to me, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand.

When I awake, I am still with Thee.

O that Thou wouldst slay the wicked, O God;

Depart from me, therefore, men of bloodshed.

For they speak against Thee wickedly,

And Thine enemies take Thy name in vain.

Do I not hate those who hate Thee, O Lord?

And do I not loathe those who rise up against Thee?

I hate them with the utmost hatred;

They have become my enemies.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

Try me and know my anxious thoughts;

And see if there be any hurtful way in me,

And lead me in the everlasting way.

I feel ya, David.