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  • Format: ePub

Have you ever prayed and felt like your message got lost somewhere between Earth and the clouds? Ever felt like your request for divine guidance got stuck behind someone else's manifestation for a new handbag?
Then this book is for you.
Why Your Prayers Ended Up in the Spam Folder is a deeply irreverent, occasionally heartbreaking, and always absurd cosmic field guide to modern spirituality, divine bureaucracy, and the weird, wonderful chaos of being human while hoping someone - anyone - is listening.
This book contains:
Misrouted miracles | Weaponized moon water | Vengeful vision
…mehr

  • Geräte: eReader
  • mit Kopierschutz
  • eBook Hilfe
  • Größe: 0.88MB
  • FamilySharing(5)
Produktbeschreibung
Have you ever prayed and felt like your message got lost somewhere between Earth and the clouds? Ever felt like your request for divine guidance got stuck behind someone else's manifestation for a new handbag?

Then this book is for you.

Why Your Prayers Ended Up in the Spam Folder is a deeply irreverent, occasionally heartbreaking, and always absurd cosmic field guide to modern spirituality, divine bureaucracy, and the weird, wonderful chaos of being human while hoping someone - anyone - is listening.

This book contains:

  • Misrouted miracles
  • Weaponized moon water
  • Vengeful vision boards
  • Spiritual customer service breakdowns
  • And one woman named Brenda who knows exactly when to serve wine and when to hex a Gemini.



Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.

Autorenporträt
Ronel Holtz is a recovering overthinker, part-time mystic, and full-time emotional stunt driver. She has whispered curses into tea mugs, lit candles for broken printers, and spent an alarming amount of time arguing with the Divine helpdesk.

Her writing blends spiritual absurdity with metaphysical customer service, and she firmly believes that sarcasm is a sacred language.

Ronel currently resides somewhere between a stack of half-finished notebooks and the last three text messages she never replied to. She accepts blessings, coffee, and editorial miracles in equal measure.