My son was growing true and straight into a man of the Good Book (King James version) until recently, when he fell in with evil companions. His once manly hair has grown long and wild, a goatish beard now obscures his once angelic visage and his eyebrows have grown together in a devilish unibrow. Loose women in diaphanous gowns hang on his arm (often several at a time). His male fellows cast dark looks about them, and they all adorn themselves with tattooed marks of Satan. Although I have no proof as yet, I fear drink, drugs and bestial carnality are their daily fare. I once even overheard terrifying references to Christopher Hitchens and George Carlin in a hastily terminated phone call between my son and one of these heartless seducers.
Brethren in Christ, I beg you to pray with me – a poor, friendless widow-woman of faultless public virtue – to help him find his way back to the true path – and Jesus, his one true friend.
Pray for him.
Brethren in Christ, I beg you to pray with me – a poor, friendless widow-woman of faultless public virtue – to help him find his way back to the true path – and Jesus, his one true friend.
Pray for him.


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