I knew better, but I shared Allie's joke with Lynn. Of the falling boulder killing my car but not me, Allie had snarked, "John, that wasn't God sparing you. That was God missing."
Lynn took offense and sat bolt upright. "That was God sparing you." She was incredibly confident.
We've fought this battle before. Every possible outcome is proof not only of God's existence, but of His divine intervention. If the boulder misses my car, it's God's will. If the boulder destroys my car, God spared me. If the boulder kills me and Fredo, He's calling me home. Fredo is just shit out of luck.
"Dear Jesus," I prayed aloud after Lynn's proclamation, "Thank you so much for sparing me from the boulder you sent to destroy my Jeep. I'm sure whatever the Jeep did to anger you, it had it coming."
Lynn glared at me. I'd like to think she was silently saying a prayer for my eternal soul, but I think she was just pissed.
Now that I'm waiting for an MRI on my shoulder, Allie wondered what Lynn would have to say about God causing my slip. I thought about it. "God sent the boulder to destroy my Jeep because He knew I wouldn't be able to drive a standard a month later. See how it all dovetails together?"