Here's something you might be interested in.
So the world is going to end on Saturday. You've heard, right? In case you haven't seen the billboards and bus benches all over the city--the end is very, very near. Not ready? Don't panic. Your fate was likely sealed months ago. I'm quite excited about it myself. Judgment day has been haunting me since I was a child and I am happy that it is finally here so I can go on with my newly ascended life.
I grew up in a very strict Southern Baptist household where you had to drop on your knees and get re-saved every time you lied, stole candy or broke a jelly jar. I lived in constant terror of the Five Horsemen, who could rampage your bedroom at any time--you never knew! A latchkey kid--we all were in the '70s--I can't remember how many times I came home from school to an empty house and eerily quiet neighborhood panicked that Jesus had come back and I had not been on the glory list.
It's no wonder I spent the main part of my young adulthood on Xanax. Judgment day had made me a certified mess. Hell--you couldn't say or do anything without the fear of brimstone cinging your short hairs. Even my ex-husband confided in me that the reason he was so embarrassed to admit that he masturbated was because he had a dream one time that as he was doing the deed he looked up to find Jesus watching him disapprovingly in the window.
Sheesh! When judgment day infiltrates your dreams, where is there left to go?
Aren't we judged enough? It seems to me we've all been living one massive Judgment Day that never ends--a la the movie Groundhog Day. We're critical of ourselves mostly, but we also judge others--for driving too slowly, too quickly (you don't know why they feel the need to speed; it could be an emergency). We judge the young mother, the old woman with purple (yes purple) hair. We're judged for believing or not believing a million things on a regular basis.
So tell me--what is left for God to judge? I think we all do a pretty darn good job at it. No offense.
It's been nice knowing you, neighbor. If for some reason the world doesn't end on Saturday, let's work a little harder to stop pointing fingers and seek to understand each other instead.
So the world is going to end on Saturday. You've heard, right? In case you haven't seen the billboards and bus benches all over the city--the end is very, very near. Not ready? Don't panic. Your fate was likely sealed months ago. I'm quite excited about it myself. Judgment day has been haunting me since I was a child and I am happy that it is finally here so I can go on with my newly ascended life.
I grew up in a very strict Southern Baptist household where you had to drop on your knees and get re-saved every time you lied, stole candy or broke a jelly jar. I lived in constant terror of the Five Horsemen, who could rampage your bedroom at any time--you never knew! A latchkey kid--we all were in the '70s--I can't remember how many times I came home from school to an empty house and eerily quiet neighborhood panicked that Jesus had come back and I had not been on the glory list.
It's no wonder I spent the main part of my young adulthood on Xanax. Judgment day had made me a certified mess. Hell--you couldn't say or do anything without the fear of brimstone cinging your short hairs. Even my ex-husband confided in me that the reason he was so embarrassed to admit that he masturbated was because he had a dream one time that as he was doing the deed he looked up to find Jesus watching him disapprovingly in the window.
Sheesh! When judgment day infiltrates your dreams, where is there left to go?
Aren't we judged enough? It seems to me we've all been living one massive Judgment Day that never ends--a la the movie Groundhog Day. We're critical of ourselves mostly, but we also judge others--for driving too slowly, too quickly (you don't know why they feel the need to speed; it could be an emergency). We judge the young mother, the old woman with purple (yes purple) hair. We're judged for believing or not believing a million things on a regular basis.
So tell me--what is left for God to judge? I think we all do a pretty darn good job at it. No offense.
It's been nice knowing you, neighbor. If for some reason the world doesn't end on Saturday, let's work a little harder to stop pointing fingers and seek to understand each other instead.