I WATCH WITH interest from the sagging porch of my Twitter account (a steady 3,940 or so followers for the last 6-months) how the people around us slowly awaken from the terrible dream of the past couple of years only to realize reality is the same only worse, … and marvel at how newbie converts struggle to come to terms with consummate evil (the twigs and branches, not the trunk; most are not ready for that yet) that nothing in their consumer history and church-of-self has in any way prepared them for.
Evil is here and it’s big. It’s so big that I’m pretty sure it will close out the end of the Good Book before too long, in whose pages I strongly believe we are now in.
A world without God gives itself meaning using the things of the world to express success or failure, mainly, deriving inward satisfaction from outward things as far as such bollocks logic goes. Storing up material wealth or just eating yourself to death (the only really affordable indulgence these days) is a bad plan short- and long-term since a healthy soul has almost nothing to do with carnal obsessions except for how they corrupt and deaden innocence and inflame vanity and greed, which is why Jesus warned us to watch out for riches.
The inward spirit has to die or at least be thrust into some self-induced coma to accommodate this empty shell of meaning but it seems like most are willing to go along, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m shocked and saddened by just how many continue down the wide way, even now. The noble sacrifice of simplicity and detachment by choice and courage in the face of oppression — the presence of virtues — has pretty much disappeared in our time, much like a plume of dust in the rearview as we gun the pedal putting distance between us and a once-upon-a-time of sweet nothings to charge recklessly into that digital night.
A part of me wants to push and get out in front of this, grab the bull by the horns and lay waste to all the lies, and expound to the best of my limited ability what I can of saving truths, while another part of me wants to sit with God loving what remains of His Creation, commiserating with Him over the failure of humans to freely accept the simple gift of love that changes everything as the great wave (you know, the one after the meteor hits), rips ashore 500 foot tall traveling at the speed of sound.
And then there is still another part of me that just wants to be whatever God wants me to be (putty in His hands like all the saints I love). In any case, I’m a little too restless to sit still, truth be told.
In the next few days, I will release a new episode of The Ark podcast, which will feature some familiar names. It won’t be an academic take on anything because that’s not really me, but it will hopefully shed some light on different ways to experience Biblical truths for our time. By now you realize what this is, I think — that we’re on a sort of pilgrimage together trekking our way (a virtual Santiago de Compostela, if you will) in search of God’s guiding light for the end of the age.
With that in mind and with the glorious return of Jesus Christ perhaps not so far off, let us pray for one another and for those who have no one to pray for them.
In Jesus’ Name.
.30.
It is so very hard to stuff that carnal self back into the bag. While your stuffing it back in on one side, it’s coming out the other. I may not eat myself in to oblivion, I might just spend my way into it or any number of other things that all really just land me in the same place.
I’ve been a bit overwhelmed and wondering lately how the hell I have myself taking care of three people?! I started out doing it for the right reasons but how do I maintain that same stance, that same rush to help and lovingly, PaItIEntLy deal with unending problems? Sometimes I just fail. But sometimes I don’t and I know when I don’t that it’s because I’m not alone in doing these things. Thank God in heaven, I’m not alone.