Me: Jesus, I need help. I'm broke, disabled, abused, depressed, unemployable, and at the end of my rope. I'm on my way to see You a lot sooner than I thought, and I don't think either of us are ready for it. What do I do?
Jesus: Get chickens.
Me: Chickens?
Jesus: Uh huh.
Me: Um... Ok. I always wanted to...hey, I can do this! I can figure this out! I can do the minimal work, I can handle the joy and the losses, I LOVE my roosters' crowing and my hen's delicious miraculous eggs, I'm getting up in the morning, I'm meeting people, I'm planning generations of chicks ahead, this really iS good for me! Wow Jesus, You really were right! Thank you so much!
Jesus: You're welcome.
Me: For the first time in my life, life seems almost...livable.
Jesus: That's great.
Me: But just one quick question please...Jesus, when did 3+6 start to =17?
Jesus: ...
Me: Jesus?
Jesus: Life isn't supposed to make sense. Besides, how do you think I breed them?!
(I love Jesus. And my chickens.

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