“It’s time to wake up, people!” …is a phrase I hear almost daily.
Last night, Rand Paul launched into a filibuster of the U.S. Senate, demanding the Obamanation declare, unambiguously, that flying robots would never be used to kill U.S. citizens, on U.S. soil, without due process.
Twelve long hours of grandstanding later, Paul, with a scratchy voice, yielded the floor without ever hearing from the Obamanation…and hundreds of people across the internet shouted, as if in one voice: “Wake up people!”
A beautiful white girl was slaughtered while taking a ride in the top of a double-decker school bus; the cry was heard: “Wake up!”
Another beautiful white girl, the more beautiful because she was in the late stages of a pregnancy, was attacked by a gang of twelve savage animals. A white lawyer stands in passionate defense of one of the animals. The sane yell “Wake up!”
I woke up. And the world is beautiful.
Discovering that I live in one of the most beautiful small Southern towns God ever created, is exhilarating and depressing at the same time. Exhilarating, because of how beautiful it is, depressing because of how quickly it’s fading away.
I took a short walk down town this evening. My town is still segregated by race, for the most part, with a defunct railroad track separating the white and black communities. The downtown area is incredible, especially just before dark. We have our own bay that opens up over the Sound. Approaching from the Sound, you’ll see a large courthouse green, around which are gathered numerous historic brick houses. At the far end of the green is the colonial courthouse which is still in use to this day.
I walked around the green, this evening, watching the ducks and geese dive for their food in the bay, and breathing in the sweet scents of early spring. In the distance the ancient Baptist church began to chime out a series of hymns. I was alone on the green, with the ducks, the bay, and the bells. It was the first time I’ve ever thought of the word “serene” to describe something I was looking at.
The masses were sleeping, watching TV, or on their computers – mired in their own little materialistic world. They can’t feel the spiritual things in life. But I was experiencing God’s glory, in small, human-sized doses. I was awake. I could feel.
It’s because I love this place so much that, upon waking, my hatred grew in proportion to the return of my Christian sobriety. My passions have been asleep all my life, and only now, have awoken fully.
Awoken to hatred and righteous anger and at times, debilitating depression. But it’s all worth it, for these sweet moments of serenity.
Wake up, people. You’re missing it.