“No, I didn’t get the job. But don’t fret! It’s all in God’s plan,” John told his wife.
“I guess. I guess you’re right,” and with that his wife walked away, but under her breath could be heard, “And God hasn’t planned very much for you in about eight months.”
-----

The next day, John’s wife came downstairs yammering to herself about the work to be done starting tomorrow. She then gave a shout, trying to reach John in whatever corner of the house he was holed up in, “Don’t forget to mow the grass today, John. The neighbors won’t tolerate it much longer.”

John snorted derisively and called back with a, “Who cares? If God wanted the grass to be cut, he would have given the world lawn mowers long before humans came around.”

And with that John’s wife went off to work, while John spent his Friday watching the news and napping in his underwear.
-----

Two weeks later, John had been denied at two more job interviews and a new letter had just come in the mail, addressed from the city. His wife brought the mail into the kitchen and put it down onto the counter. John was sitting nearby; he was garbed in a brown bathrobe and a newly fashioned bushy brown beard. His wife began to open up the mail and she scoffed with disgust when she read the city’s letter.

“As we told you in our last letter, we will now send a city contracted lawn service to mow your grass and will then send you the bill,” she read aloud horrified. “WE’VE GOTTEN ONE OF THESE BEFORE?”

“Course we did. I didn’t pay much mind,” John replied a bit absent-mindedly.

“And why not?”

“Well, it’s from the city. Ain’t it? Now, if it was signed: The Lord or The Messiah, that’s a different story,” he walked over to her. “Honey, we don’t have to worry about worldly things. I’ll mow our lawn in Heaven.”

“Whatever. Why the hell are you still growing a beard?”

John patted her arm, “They were good enough for Jesus, honey.”
----

The next day, John awoke to a bedside note that went,
God’s plan has me leaving you.
-Your Divorcee
John looked up and said to no one in particular, “God was always telling me, she was a b****.”