Sunday, April 19, 2020

an indifferent munching on the triscuits of life, the kjv, and some stoic consolation about the implacable universe around us


Fled for refuge in our hope in Christ.

Listen not to the hopeless, for their message is beyond filth, being actually like gravedirt.  And you would say, one naysayer throwing a handful of dirt does little harm, but let them all line up to throw.  You see the snowball coming down the hill then, getting larger and larger.

We are powerless but to hear, but can we control how we re-act to such?

We keep saying, "this and that are just the workings of an indifferent universe", and "whatever happens, in the final analysis, serves the entire, and therefore is not meant to favor who and what it may seem is important."

Without hope, what are we but specks on a dying rock, being heated by the rays of a dying star?

And now that we have seen the immensity of the pandemic, with horrors and wonders-some of which many thought they would never see-do we revel or care worth one jot or tittle that we have touched the shirt collar of Father Time?

Remember, you are in the midst of your course.  There is still time to change direction, no matter the cost; there is time to avert disaster, to right the ship.  Death, should it come, is but a minor nuisance, another change, and will re-connect you atomically with the universe.


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