- Title: Calling Up the Born-Again Sacred-Cow--And Her Win-Souls Calf: Doc Diagnosed a Cold; She Died with Swine Flu. (Zion Papatots from Ko-Beri Ledg)
- Released: 2009-09-30
- Pages: 90
- ASIN: B002R5B280
Doc Diagnosed a Cold; She Died With Swine Flu.
Copyright © 2009 by Thomas Pelham Gross
(Sacred cow: something exempt from any criticism or interference)
Wait up! I KNOW You!
Just give me a minute or two to remember—while you’re reading.
What if I told you of this great football dynasty that now, not only cannot get through The Red Zone to score, but does not even have the goal line in mind or sight—not even in their game plan? What would you say? (Keep reading; I think it’s coming to me.)
How long do you figure this dynasty will last? How long will fans follow? How long will top-notch coaches come on board? How long will the owner put up with this? How long can he survive if he does put up with this? Will he keep on rolling out the dough? (It’s getting clearer now.)
‘Same with this sacred cow. How long will the Owner keep a cow, not only who is not producing His herd, but which does not even have herd production on her mind or anywhere in her plans? She refuses to breed with His Bull. She’s far too “holy” for that. Her only calf is so old, and she has kept it such a baby so long by licking on it that the calf is past the reproduction cycle and unable to contribute to a herd—if she wanted to. The old mama cow keeps fattening herself at the Farmer’s trough, grazing up His pasture, getting in the way, and lowing loudly and pitifully because everybody in the pasture won’t keep licking all over her spoiled-rotten calf like she does.
One sick situation! ‘Glad I’m not the Farmer. No herd in sight for the Owner. His cow is in an incestuous relationship of “I have had a baby and I’m done.” The only building I see going on is a mounting relational implosion that is duly and rightfully destined. Her Owner cannot afford to keep on shelling out the corn and dishing out the dough when she’s producing no milk and no beef. I know what my dairy farmer Dad would’ve done—called Knight Brothers, trucked them to the auction, sold ‘em for hamburger meat, and bought another cow.
Anyway, that’s what I’m dealing with here.
OH! NOW I REMEMBER!
You are that Truth-seeker, aren’t you? If you were not that one, you would not be reading an unreligious, un-pedigreed plowboy. Maybe you stumbled into a Sovereignly-set, Truth-trap.
If you really are the one, I’ll bet you’ve just plain had it:
* With Christians out pestering folks to help them “win” one soul for each dollar of America’s deficit (or some such preposterous number “the Lord spoke.”)
* With Multimillionaire/billionaire televangelists madly manipulating for still more money, either because they’re already “winning” a zillion souls, or they desperately need you to “sow your partner seed” with them right now so they can “win” a gazillion souls.
* With trying to find a group who have found the secret of getting God to show up when they do—with so much power nobody has to keep repeating how “the anointing is here,” “the glory has come,” “God is in the house,” etc.
* With people who act like they have lassoed truth and corralled it in their little herd over in one corner of the field.
* With church leaders who are too scared to lead and too insecure in the truth to let anybody else lead.
* With such sanctimonious churches that they only see their one cow and one golden calf—and you would like to ask them, “When did the Holy Most God make you Holy Spirit pdf