The Gospel According to the Thunderstorm Wallet
Parables from the Collapse Economy, Vol. I
🎧 LISTEN WHILE YOU READ:
“How Much A Dollar Cost?” — Kendrick Lamar
On the way to the movies, the sky cracked open.
Thunder. Sheets of water. The city exhaling its sins.
And there he was—
A Black man soaked in stormlight, marching the median like a prophet out of nowhere and everywhere.
He held up a cardboard sign, front and back gospel style:
Side A:
✝️ JESUS SAVES
🩸 REPENT — painted in raw red.
Side B:
🟢 WILL YOU FEED ME IN THE NAME OF GOD?
He was flipping it back and forth like a holy cipher, a walking contradiction that made perfect sense.
Protesting. Preaching.
Testifying on the corner of capitalism and collapse.
I always give whatever I have. This time it felt urgent. Like heaven had queued it up.
I scrambled in my wallet—some crumpled $1 bills, chaos as usual—
grabbed three, leaned out the window and handed them over, breathless:
“This is all I have.”
He locked eyes with me like we were old soul friends.
“God bless you,” he said.
Then louder—
“GOD BLESS YOU!!! YOU ARE A CHILD OF GOD!! I LOVE YOU!!!”
Yelled it like he meant it.
Yelled it like he knew something I didn’t yet.
I drove off, rattled in the best way.
My son Maddox was in the backseat, grinning with his whole heart.
“Giving feels good, doesn’t it?” he said. Wise like kids are when they remember the ancient codes.
We pull up to the theater. We’ve been waiting weeks to see this movie.
I reach for the $100 I knew was in there.
Gone.
I flipped through the bills again, frantic. A few sad dollars left. That’s it.
And then I realize what happened.
What actually happened.
That hundred-dollar bill?
It was tucked in with the ones.
I gave it to him.
I gave the whole damn $100.
Maddox and I just looked at each other like—
Wait… did we just do a miracle?
And then came the panic.
I had no way to pay.
The tickets. The popcorn. The plan.
I stood at the counter about to explain—when the guy ringing us up looked at me, quiet but clear.
He pulled out his own wallet and said:
“I got y’all.”
I. Got. Y’all.
Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Maddox and I blinked in disbelief. My knees buckled.
It was like the divine said:
You gave without knowing.
So I’m giving it all back.
With extra butter.
And that’s when I realized:
This whole day was the movie.
The rest was just credits rolling.
That man in the rain?
A messenger.
The cashier?
An angel in an apron.
My son?
A prophet with popcorn fingers.
Me?
Some broke mystic fumbling through grace.
I didn’t lose $100.
I invested in a system that doesn’t operate on greed.
I accidentally gave to God.
And God paid it forward.
So let it be written:
The new currency is faith.
The new wealth is giving without fear.
And sometimes the miracle looks like a stranger yelling “I LOVE YOU” in a rainstorm
while you drive off with nothing but chills.
Amen. Pass the popcorn.
🧾 AUTHOR’S NOTE:
I don’t write these things to impress you. I write them to remind myself.
That this world is strange and holy. That giving multiplies. That grace has a GPS and no one escapes their initiation.
If you’ve ever accidentally done something divine — welcome to the altar of “Oh Shit, That Was God.”This is the first entry in a new parable series I’m writing called Parables from the Collapse Economy. Stay tuned.
🔖 TAGS:
#GospelOfTheEveryday #ModernParables #CollapseEconomyChronicles #GivingAsRitual #DivineEncounters #SubstackSermon #FieldNotesFromThe5D
🌩️ Have you ever accidentally performed a miracle?
Drop it in the comments. Let’s archive the unexplainable.