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…