It occurs to me sometimes . . . to think of the person who might stop by this little lean-to at the watering hole, and think, "good grief, still talking about God and Jesus . . . don't you ever give it a rest?"
And then I think, "goodness gracious, you still don't think of God ever' day, but only once in a blue moon?!"
To me, it is pert near the gates of Hell, that place where some live day after day . . . and rarely, if ever, consider God, the purpose of this life, or how to secure a hereafter. That place is one of dumb animals, who eat, sleep, chase some pleasure, maybe build a little structure . . . but all amidst the smoking ruins and barren surrounds of meaningless existence. Is there anything so vapid, so dull, so pointless, so meandering and superficial . . . as the life that is lived with no thought of eternal being . . . no consideration for life after life . . . no wonder at this world of awful beauty and terror . . . no concern for absolutes . . . no search, no questing for truth . . . . But instead, like the one dimensional life of a cow, just eating, chewing the cud, standing about . . . with occasional random lowing . . . .
No, I think it quite otherwise my friend. It is not fanatical . . . nor obsessive . . . nor overbearing . . . neither misguided nor misspent time . . . to ponder and attend to the person of God and His intention for our lives EVERY DAY, looking constantly to a perfect eternal life liberated from the corruption of a fallen world and body . . . . Everything else shall pass away! All the great works of art . . . the cathedrals . . . the 7 wonders of the world . . . the recordings and sheet music of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and Hendrix . . . the schools, the sculptures, the fountains, the statues . . . the exquisite gold, ruby and emerald jewelry . . . pension funds, social security, retirement benefits . . . Greco-Roman capitol buildings, the Coliseum, the Louvre' . . . the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, the Redwoods . . . the Mediterranean . . . the Nile . . . the sacred Ganges . . . ganja, coca, Coca-Cola, morphine, Celebrex and Cymbalta . . . your house, your apartment, my house, his cabin, her high-rise suite . . . all your hobbies and crafts . . . everyone's hobbies and crafts . . . your racing bike, your ATV, his boat, her scooter . . . all Ipods . . . all HDTV's . . . every museum . . . every great literary work, novel and poem . . . .
ALL GONE. Swept away. Rolled up like a scroll . . . .
Who DOESN'T think of God every day? Who shouldn't try to find God and a more permanent meaning to this flash-in-the-pan life?
Who wouldn't want to be in relationship with the God-Man who came to earth, lived and died in the flesh, and made it so that we can live forever in holy perfection?
Who wouldn't respond to the call to have daily, personal interaction with the very spirit of God, the Creator, where He invites every soul to be in communion and subject to His perfect wisdom, mercy, love and guidance?
You mean you DON'T address these matters every day? Are you joking? Please, tell me you're joking . . . . Of course you are not surprised I am still here, day after day, talking about the Lord and Savior and related issues . . . because . . . we all must agree that . . . well . . . what else is there? Right?
Wait . . . what? You're bored with the topic? You've had enough? Please . . . dear friend . . . tell me you're joking . . . .