Who sent it?

 After a few minutes of sitting there and thinking about the invitation, you realized that it can't be. "I bet it was sent by one of the guys at the coffed shop, " you say to your wife. "This is ridiculous. I can't believe that they would do such a thing. God doesn't send out invitations." Looking at your wife, you pick up the invitation, and throw it in the garbage. "And by the way, I don't think I will be able to go to church with you this week. If you want to stop by and pick me up after you are down so we can meet them at the restaurant, that would be good. But I am NOT going to church" 

Walking out of the kitchen, you pick up your coat, slip it on, grab your keys and say, "I'm going to confront those guys. This isn't funny. Why would they do that?" Soon you pull up in front of the coffee shop on the square. Yep, there are their cars and trucks. The guys are here. "I bet they are in there laughing at me," you think as you walk towards the door.

"Hey guys!" you call as you walk in. A round of greetings come from the guys. Slipping into an empty chair, the waitress brings you a cup of coffee. You have been coming here long enough she knows to get you a cup of joe. The conversation is going go as you pick it up and smell the wonderful coffee smell. Taking a sip, you know that it is good and hot. Just the way you like it. Yep, that waitress knows how you like your coffee.

"Which one of you did it?" you ask. All eyes turn to you. Conversation stopped. "I know one of you did it. Which one of you did? Or are you all involved?" Looking around the table, you see confusion and blank stares looking back at you. You look at each face, sure that one of them will crack. But there is no change at all. "What do you mean?" one of them ask. "Yeah, how can we know what we did, if we don't know what you are talking about?" another says. 

"The invitation," you say. "Did you open it?" you are asked. "I thought you threw it away." "Who was it from?" "What was it for?" The guys are throwing questions at you quicker than than you can respond. Holding you hand up, "Wait a moment. I did open it. It was an invitation from God, inviting me to a Christmas Eve church service." They all looked at you for a moment, and then began to laugh. "There it is," you think. "Now I am getting somewhere." 

"What are you talking about?" one of them ask. "Hey look," they joke with each other, "God sent me an invitation." Laughter all around the table. "Are you crazy?" one of the says. "That is crazy. God doesn't do that."

"I know, that is why I am sure that one of you, or maybe all of you, sent that to me. Which one did it?" you ask. There wasn't a word, a sound. "It wasn't me," says one. And soo, they all respond the same way. "Was it really from God?" one of them ask. "How am I supposed to know. I never have gotten a card from God before. He doesn't do that sort of thing," you say.

Discussion continues for a few minutes as they all begin to talk about this invitation. You wish you hadn't thrown it away. Why didn't you bring it with you to show them? Maybe that would have broken the silence on who sent it. But then again, as you look around, it appears that none of them are showing any sign of being the one that sent it to you. 

After eating breakfast, you head home. The house is quiet. You knew that your wife was going to hairdresser this morning. So you expected that she would be gone. Going to the garbage, you look inside. It was empty. She must have taken the garbage out. Going outside, you open the garbage can, but it is empty. Oh yeah, today was garbage pick up day. Grrr, why did you throw that invitation away? Why did she have to take the garbage out? Why did they have to be on time picking up the garbage? Didn't they know that you wanted to get that out of the garbage? Oh well, that is the end of that silly part of you life. After several weeks, it felt good to have it over.

Later that same day, you hear the mailman stop by, putting the mail in your box. Probably Christmas cards, you think. Opening the door, you reach out and take the mail out of the box. Walking into the kitchen, you are sorting through the mail. Christmas card, Christmas card, junk mail, look a credit card application, Christmas card, and...

...an invitation. You stand there, staring at the inviation in your hand. What is this?