Do You Suppose God Got Mad?

I mentioned in an earlier post ("Oxymoron") about a neighbor's sign supposedly for both Jesus and Trump. Hence the title of the post. 

Last night a wild thunderstorm went through. Over in our yard some bushes with previous storm damage accumulated a bit more damage. Pruning will be necessary, but no big hurry. They were overgrown and need severe fall cutting back for next year. Perhaps this weekend will do. Or at least waiting till the trash bins are emptied. Across the street, however, the offending sign has disappeared. I've looked out our windows and find no sign of it - no pun intended. Another storm went through this morning, which both radar and the local news confirm, along with Steve's report from being awake at the time, as I slept through it. This morning as I opened the blinds, still no sign was there.

So, I've been busy with morning routines for a while, and just sat down to write a thought which has been entertaining me for a bit. It requires the temporary suspension of disbelief for all who:

    1: do not believe in God

    2: Do not believe in Jesus as the son of God, nor care

    3: find no conflict with the thought of Jesus as their savior while following Trump as a modern religious icon

    4: Do not believe God works small practical wonders today.

Do you suppose God got mad at the blasphemy of the sign and actually got angry enough to make a point about it? Can you just imagine the holy wrath at the besmirching of his only begotten son's name and reputation by anything resembling equating following one with following the other?

I admit to finding the concept entertaining, enough to post about it. It's nearly afternoon, and while the rain has cleared, clouds still cover the sky, and it's still too wet to head out to prune back broken branches, haul dirt to fill holes without becoming totally muddy and tracking it back into the house, and with no sign of the mail truck there's no need to head outside at all yet. 

The lot next door has rebar in the bottom of the spot they worked on so hard yesterday in the high heat and humidity until finding a logical quitting point before somebody became ill. Some of the puddles there have drained out from under the 2-by-12s holding everything in place waiting for a concrete pour, and each time somebody swings by to check on status, I take note and notice what else is happening. Mail delivery? Not yet, though UPS and Amazon drove by. Neighbors out walking? Occasionally. Garbage bins and recycling to the curb? Still too early. Give it a couple more hours, since the early birds seem to be waiting.

Across the street? The offending sign has reappeared. So much for fantasy, right? I can only presume the neighbors went out when the sirens sounded, either the first or second time last night, both before the weather arrived, and rescued their sign from...  (the wrath of...) ...whatever was to come.

But hey, ain't imagination fun?