FREE TO A GOOD HOME – Blonde Female – 2 yrs old – Housebroken and good with kids. If you are interested let me know and I will give the person’s phone no. to call.
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FREE TO A GOOD HOME – Blonde Female – 2 yrs old – Housebroken and good with kids. If you are interested let me know and I will give the person’s phone no. to call.
Read More→
It’s that time of year again (as Rong would say when isn’t it that time of year?) when Christmas letters from loved ones abound.
Every year I receive a letter that I have a very difficult time being charitable toward. The letter is typical in one sense. It tells the families story from the previous year. However the way the story is told leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.
What bothers me about this particular letter is how sickeningly sweet everything is. Story after story of how together everyone in the family is, how wonderful each grandchild is, how beautiful the world is. It’s not just that little Johnny has learned to read and write but little Johnny has become the world’s greatest author at the age of 4 and a half.
The letter ends with a paragraph telling us to remember that Jesus is the reason for the season.
I’ve threatened in response to write a Christmas letter that begins with, “Well another year gone and I’m still struggling with my pornography addiction, my wife’s still yelling and screaming at the kids, Child 1 is a rebellious ungrateful pre-teen, Child 2 is as willfully disobedient as ever, Child 3 continues with tantrums and screaming fits…”
Jesus is NOT the reason for the season. Man’s desperate sinful condition and God’s redeeming love is what the season has been predicated upon. Jesus is the solution to the dilemma of a just and merciful God who is both just and justifier of those who have faith in Christ.
“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”
The day dream overtook me and I found myself standing in line with a great multitude. There was no need to explain to me why I was in this line, or what the line was for, or why the line stretched out into an infinitely vast space. Understand, all of us in the line knew that it would lead us before our Judge – the Great Arbiter of Eternity. Now, I was in no hurry to see this inexorable line move any faster, for the Arbiter had a book before him and like a pensive school boy I both wanted to see what was written inside and yet feared it too. But the line did move and like cattle heading toward the slaughter we relentlessly moved forward. Nothing was said, nothing needed saying, for we all knew that it was now time to answer for our follies.
There before me now I could see the front of the line moving up before him. And, I saw The Judge, larger than life, sitting at a great, white stoned, judges bench. Before him laid the great book and each of us knew that therein was a page devoted solely to us. As the line moved forward I could make out what was being done. A person would stand before the Judge, who would then turn to a page in the book and without saying a word the person before him would suddenly reel in terror. I don’t know what they saw, but I know I didn’t want to see it. I’ve never seen such a look of horror and panic, of repugnance and physical revulsion. Their body literally contorting under the insanity of what they saw, the scream unable to escape their lips. And then just as quickly they would vanish. And the next person would step forward. Over and over I witnessed the same horrifying scene unfold before me, the line ever diminishing, moving me closer to the Judge to be judged.
And now it was my turn. The judges bench loomed before me like a gallows, the Final Authority staring down at me with implacable eyes and a grave countenance upon his face. He turned the pages in the book and with the index finger of his right hand he pointed at what I knew to be the first words on my page. Just as quickly, I knew what it was that all the people before me had seen. A mirror began forming in my mind and I knew that I was about to see myself and all my past deeds through the eyes of my Judge. In that infinitesimal moment, I inwardly curled into a fetal ball. Dreading with every ounce of my being what I was about to see, knowing that it was going to wash over me like raw sewage. But in that same instance, instead of what I was bracing myself for, a brilliant, radiance reflected back towards me. The light was so bright that in my mind I had to avert my gaze, the heat blowing past me like a warm summers day. I tried to make out what I was seeing and realized that there was someone else standing in between myself and the Judge, it was His reflection that the Arbiter saw and not my own. And with that the mirror vanished as quickly as it had appeared and the countenance of the Judge had changed, a look of acceptance now appearing on his face.
And me, instead of producing a soundless cry of endless horror, there birthed now only silent tears of joy.
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