angst


What interests me, what concerns me? Every person with a heart has something of interest, some targeted worry, what is mine, what interests me? It’s children, basically, something, anything about children. My children, anybody’s little ones, anyone’s belovedy. Here for this morning is a definition of nuts: any parents who think they will stop worrying about their children once they’re out of their teens, up and grown and out of the home. Climbing up here to this ancient aging to peer out beyond Octogenarian Hill, I still agonize about mine even as they grow into late middle age. My first act most mornings: walk out on the back porch and look in the carport between our two houses here to verify that the red light is blinking on the dashboard of Kristen’s car, telling me she arrived home safely.

Will I ever be shed of worry? I hope so. My idea of Heavenly Hereafter is not to be wafting around in a Ghostly Being as someone’s guardian angel or keeping an eye on and worrying about! If not streets of gold, endless mango, papaya, chocolate-covered macdamia nuts, and the Sound of Anglican Chant, then Heaven to me might be Oblivion! I’m Standing on the Promises of Revelation 21:4. Not to mention Isaiah 25:8, 35:10, 51:11, 60:20, let the reader either understand or look it up. And even, glory be, Isaiah 65:19 to rejoice over Jerusalem, Amen, let it be so.

What brings this on? It isn’t morbid or macabre. It’s this agony about children. Palestinian children. Israeli children. The children of Jerusalem. The murdered ones, the threatened ones, the frightened ones. The children crossing our Southern Border in flight from fear and the nightmare of the places they have fled. The horror that America would ravage our history and destiny as a Christian land of hope by refusing to suffer the little children to come unto.

Without an answer to the existing, looming, developing, growing, expanding humanitarian catastrophe of Gaza, the Left Bank, Palestine, Africa, and our own Southern Border, I am with the Pope. 


Adversus haereses and in the face of xenophobia and racism and the ultimate status confessionis, no Christian can turn away a hungry, frightened child, and if we do so, our religion is σκύβαλον. The Body of Christ, we are the New Jerusalem, the New Israel, and if we are not, then It is not and will never be.

The Lord bless you from Zion.
May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem
    all the days of your life.

May you see your children’s children.
    Peace be upon Israel!

TW+

Ps 128