A brief Sabbath

It’s Saturday.  A sentient being whose existence is intertwined with mine by, among other things, a certain amount of shared DNA, insists that I go with him to the Renaissance Faire.  Like (but not too like)  Sauron at the moment of the destruction of the Ring, my mind will shake free from all other concerns.  

 God, of course, will be present at the Faire, as God is present in all things in particular.  But if I know Him, He’ll consider the context and have the good sense to wear a proper disguise.