Archives for the month of: July, 2011

Donna Louise here. Sister Ivy has disappeared. She missed every meal on Saturday including chili cheese dogs and stewed okra which are her faves. She leads Saturday evening Kegels, but Sister Weymuth replaced her. Sister’s a wonderful person, but her Kegel prayer sessions leave me without that burn.

Between Consciousness Breathing and breakfast, I strayed off-path and stopped by Sister Ivy’s cell. I knocked. No answer. As I grabbed the doorknob, Sister Joy Abunda, the self-appointed hall monitor, rounded the corner. “What are you doing?”

 Sister Joy teaches self-defense to the Rejoicing Emissaries. Word’s out she’s a former Amazonian Guard member, the elite, 40-virgin fighting force that guards Libya’s  Khadafi. They receive training in hand-to-hand combat and in the use of weapons for the destruction of masses.  Tired of being a virgin, she fled Libya with the desire to lose her virginity and use her skills for the defense of women everywhere. Built like a two-seater, brick outhouse, the woman makes quite an impression.

 “Well, Sister Donna Louise, I asked you a question.”

 As I turned toward her, I unfocused my eyes. “Huh?” Okay. So that wasn’t the most brilliant response of my life, but it’s all I could summon up.

 She grabbed my arm and shook me. “I asked you what you’re doing here. Now answer me.”

 Time for Plan B:  a spiritual awakening. Go ahead. It was cheap and low, but you didn’t have a 300-pound, attack virgin restricting the blood flow in your left arm.

 My eyes rolled back in my head. “Sweet Jesus, your Spirit’s moving in me. Come, Lord Jesus.” I trembled like I’d been shocked, followed by a full-fledged, ecstatic seizure. “I’m on fire with the love of God.” I swooned and fell to the floor. Well, not quite, because Sister Joy didn’t let go of my arm.

 She screamed. “Sister down. Get Mother Superior.” She dropped my arm (and me) and took off as if the hounds of Hell nipped at her heels. Some fierce virgin, huh?

 Oh, great. I fake a spiritual awakening to get out of trouble and end up on the floor waiting for Mother Superior to arrive. Good going, Donna Louise.

Donna Louise here in a cold sweat. Last night Mother Superior called Sister Ivy out of evening Kegels. So no TV for me and no late night viewing. I went to bed right after my prayers and drifted off to sleep.

 My guilt must have been pretty strong because I dreamed I was a spider. A big white thumb and forefinger held one end of a long string and twirled it so I spun around and around over the fiery pits of Hell. Dizzy and about to hurl, I kept yelling for the man to stop. The hairs on the fingers convinced me of the sex of my tormentor. (I almost wrote “the hairs on his palm,” but that’s a totally different kind of man.)

Out of the fire came a voice. “The God that holds you over the pit of hell….detests you, and is dreadfully provoked.” The fingers released the thread and I fell toward the flames. I awoke to find that I’d accidentally turned on my electric blanket to the highest setting.

I grabbed The Best of Puritan Hellfire and Damnation Sermons which I keep on my bedside table for nights I can’t sleep. I found what I remembered: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. Love that one. Jonathan Edwards gets on his preaching high horse and rides into the blazing dawn of redemption. According to him, God holds each sinner (which means everyone) by a thread like a spider, or some other detestable insect, and it’s purely by God’s pleasure that he doesn’t drop us all into Hell.

Mama read me this sermon when I was little. The image of billions of little strings hanging from God’s fingers with squirming people on the ends made me laugh. What a mess. I imagined that he occasionally dropped someone by mistake and got all mad and pouty like angry gods get.

 In addition to his rousing talks, Reverend Edwards did some good things, which, I know, can be said of even the foulest people. He believed in inoculations against smallpox and, to show his support, had an inoculation. It killed him. Oops. Guess God let go of his string.

 Maybe Sister Ivy will smuggle me her TV tonight and I can watch horror movies until 1 A.M.  My favorite is The Exorcist, religion and horror in one neat little bundle.