When believers send this kind of crap to Brother Sam, God invariably drops what he’s not doing and annotates it so it can be taken down word for word. Just as surely as Brother Sam employs an amanuensis, so too does God, and that’d be Brother Sam. And Brother Sam hopes he’s not telling tales out of school, but if you ever heard some of God’s messages directly you’d understand why his children have such difficulty with language. As for the crap folks send in, and the aforementioned annotations, Brother Sam lets the human errors stand, but feels obliged to clean up God’s work out of respect for what he used to be back before he turned out to not exist. You shoulda seen him then, slaughtering babies, drowning just and unjust alike, all manner of plagues―
Brother Sam has color coded the parts.
Why God Allows Pain
(blue parts sic)
This was a must share; Really good. This is one of the best explanations of why God allows pain and suffering that I have seen...
A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects. When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber said: “I don’t believe that God exists.”
“Why do you say that?” asked the customer. “Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn’t exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can’t imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things.”
The customer thought for a moment, but didn’t respond because he didn’t want to start an argument. The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop.
Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt. The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber:
“You know what? Barbers do not exist.”
“How can you say that?” asked the surprised barber. “I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!”
“No!” the customer exclaimed. “Barbers don’t exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside.”
“Ah, but barbers DO exist! That’s what happens when people do not come to me.”
“Exactly!” affirmed the customer. “That’s the point! God, too, DOES exist! That’s what happens when people do not go to Him and don’t look to Him for help. That’s why there’s so much pain and suffering in the world.”
If you think God exists, please share this with other people--- BE BLESSED & BE A BLESSING TO OTHERS !!!!!!!
The Apostle Paul himself couldn’t have done a subtler job of capturing both my mean and crazy sides. But I would like to illuminate a few of your finer points, if you don’t mind. I mean, I wouldn’t want to step on anybody’s toes. You want to call this revelation, I will not say you nay.
You are right. The sufferers themselves are responsible for their suffering, seeing as how all they have to do is come to me for relief. I mean, how lazy do you have to be not to get off your starving or disabled or abused ass and come to Jesus?
But sometimes, especially when the ones doing the suffering are babies and little children and old folks, I’d just as soon the blame not get hung on me, even though I can stop it anytime I want.
And I know what the heathens are going to say: that some sufferers are not capable of coming to me because they’re, well, suffering too much to do much of anything except be miserable. So let me just remind you that if I gave a goddamn there wouldn’t be suffering in the first place.
And finally, what the armchair theologians that promulgate this kind of (insert something too filthy even for Brother Sam) fail to grasp is that barbers are omnipotent. And naturally, among their unlimited powers is the ability to instantaneously groom anyone anywhere any time to a fare-thee-well. But they don’t. Because you gotta come to them. I thought Paul covered this stuff. Paul was bald. As soon as he got saved all his hair fell out.
“I’d appreciate it if in the future you’d go somewhere else when you need a trim. The fact is, I cannot trust myself to be near your exposed throat with this straight razor. That, and I’m barely making it as it is and I’d feel obliged to charge you for a child’s haircut, seeing as how you appear to have the intellect of a goddamn five year old. A very slow five year old. Maybe a five year old monkey. A very slow five year old monkey. The kind of monkey you get into some kind of remedial monkey program or some shit so he can keep up with the other monkeys. Only he still can’t because he’s this tragically backward five year old monkey who’s almost half as stupid as you. Poor little monkey.
Here I thought you came back to give me my tip. But no, you parsimonious bastard, you just light into this silly-assed harangue about God and stiff me all over again. To hell with you and the Lord. I want my goddamn gratuity.”