I’m a bad Calvinist for saying this but I’ve had a run of bad luck lately. In fact, I’m at a low point in life. When I was in the military, there towards the end, I was making more than both my parents combined. I lived in a large apartment overlooking the Potomac. I had an abundant savings. Life was good.
But I had grown with many new convictions and decided I couldn’t serve in the military with a good conscience. So instead of renewing my enlistment, I got out and moved back to Carolina. Since then my life has spiraled downward until almost everything has been taken from me. (Loss of respect is worse than loss of material goods).
Go-lucky evangelicals remind me to thank God for the little He’s left me. Their point is readily granted but I sometimes get the feeling they’re unable to empathize. Telling a man on the ledge of a skyscraper to “cheer up, chap! Remember what you still have!” is borderline insulting.
Hedonism is a coward’s suicide. In my darker moments, I’ve thought of spiraling into it while hoping for a noble death. Maybe I could jump in front of a gunman or swerve into a drunk driver to save a school bus?
I’m not at that point yet, readers. I’ve been driven to my knees in prayer though. At least, metaphorically.
I drove to one of my favorite locales today. I wanted to watch the full moon rise over the Atlantic while asking God for relief. While praying, a beautiful pelican – he must have had a four-foot wing span – emerged over the dunes and flew right at me.
“Hark! A sign!” I thought.
He flew low, directly over me, and as I stared at his belly, he unloaded his bowels all over my forehead.
God had spoken.
Luckily the beach access had a decent bath-house and I washed myself. But I can’t wash away the feeling God has abandoned this country and its people. We’re damned, all of us, and rightly so.
…is there any grace left for those who still look to Him for guidance?