The Storm Cometh…

florence

Walk down the main street of any post-European town and, if you’re like me, the scenery moves you to tears for the passing of a great race. The architecture is still there, if a little worn. The layout is still a blessing; but the people are all zombies and there are (usually) gangs of unruly minorities littering the green. You start to realize the beauty was in the people, not the buildings. It’s a lonely setting for a man of old-Christian sensibilities to walk through the corpse of Christendom.

So, am I angry with God for choosing to punish my cherished region? No.

I’d rather see it destroyed by flood waters than pillaged by devils.

Still, I experience a subtle thrill whenever the news begins hyperventilating about a coming disaster. Will this be the one? Will this be the one that violently snaps the white, Southern, every-man out of his Satanic trance and turns his heart back to Christ?

…one can only hope.

Stay safe out there, my friends…

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3 Responses to The Storm Cometh…

  1. Joe Putnam says:

    Hey Shotgun,
    Your comment on God punishing us reminds me of a (very anti-Calvinist and anti-racist) Baptist preacher I once knew who openly proclaimed (in print) that God no longer judged nations, only individuals. Most professing Christians are blind to God’s judgement as it falls on them.
    Take care as the storm hits.

  2. Elle says:

    I’ve thought of you throughout the news coverage of the storm, and I hope that your town escaped the brunt of the damage.

    • Glad to know you’re still alive, Elle…I am as well, despite nature’s best efforts.

      Ironically, the wild horses on the Outer Banks survived the worst storm in news-casters’ memory. Feed them *one* store bought carrot or apple though, and we’re assured they’ll die horribly.

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