A Question for God

Do You want me to be fat?

I've come to that conclusion after carefully following a 30-day nutritional cleanse and exercise program and losing a whopping six pounds. Women friends who were not in the least overweight lost a minimum of 10.

Why would God want me to be fat? I've decided that it's because He supports my hugging apostolate, even though no spiritual reading I've done promotes any outward behaviors other than dignified reserve.

I've tried to act this way, truly. When I have failed repeatedly, I have begged God to make me Mary-like, but to no avail. My worst fault is that I'm a compulsive hugger. For some reason I get this overpowering urge to grab people and squeeze 'em against me. It is always precipitated by this feeling that my heart is fixing to burst with love and that I can mash it into folks with a good solid hug. I get the most relief if the hug is returned, but that rarely happens. Most of my hugees are frozen stiff with fear, or maybe it is good Catholic reserve.

I'm eagerly awaiting the return of one of Nathaniel's friends from school. He is coming home for Easter and is a magnificent hugger. I'm feeling a groundswell of affection for him right now. My big sister is an excellent hugger, too. Our hugs sometimes turn into a 5-minute slow dance. We mash so much love into each other it squishes out everywhere and makes a big, sticky love cloud all around us. It's very satisfactory. The problem is, I only get to see her about once a year.

What does this have to do with God wanting me to be fat? Well, I can tell you that if I were not fat, a lot of folks would get the wrong idea about my hugging apostolate. So until God decides to strike me with lightning and make me consistently serious, dignified, and resigned, He protects me with a thick layer of blubber.

Blessed be the will of God.