Prayer Hotlines

Somewhere around 3am, I drunkenly stumbled through my front door. My brain told me to turn on the kitchen light, so I could navigate the minefield that was my studio apartment, but my feet were confident in maneuvering through the piles of clothes and papers scattered across my floor. After nearly breaking my neck 3 times, I then proceeded to fall into bed.

Merely drunk, not tired, I turned to my favorite herbal remedy and clicked on the television. The blinding blue light revealed the only form of entertainment one who pays $30 a month for internet and cable could come across at 3am, local pastors and their prayer hotlines. My excitement only amplified when I realized the reason the screen was shining so exponentially blue, was that the plump, 50-something year old woman sitting behind the desk was wearing a jean jacket with a jean shirt (I could only assume she completed the outfit with a pair of jeans I was unable to see.) Then, like a gift from god, she began speaking in tongues. This was the perfect way for me to end the night, drinks and a show.

There were a few callers that affected me, but the majority were about stupid things like injuries that wouldn’t heal or some unpaid debt. It was at this point my mind began to reflect on a new idea about this type of prayer. If god does exist, and he/she doesn’t answer prayers the first thousand times, does it become stalker-ish to start using other people’s “prayer lines” to attempt to communicate?

I couldn’t help but make comparisons to some psycho exes my friends have dealt with. When these crazy exes were desperate for contact, their solution was to call from any phone they could get their hands on until they got all their friends blocked from their former partner’s phone. I remember when my ex’s ex stalked our relationship. For three years, he received calls from an endless amount of numbers that always had her voice on the other end. Even though he proceeded to ignore her, she somehow formulated in her mind that the message just wasn’t getting through, and by calling from a different number, what she had to say would have a greater impact.

I am aware of the fact that there are many variables to this topic. One’s understanding of god determines the way they pray, but I just found humor in the fact that there were people thoroughly convinced that a jean clad pastor rambling nonsense could somehow be a better messenger to the creator of the universe. The all powerful just didn’t receive any of the messages left for them.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am an atheist (I hate that fucking word.) I wonder sometimes, if I were religious, perhaps I would have an answer to this question. There are things religious people do that I will never, in a million years, understand. Human emotion is almost always irrational and we hold on tightly to small things to comfort us. But this is one of those comforts that make no sense to someone ruled by logic. Some choose to pray away their problems, I prefer to drink.

“Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”

― Benjamin Franklin