Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


One and only

I've thought a lot about my dad recently. Those thoughts have been...well...painful. He's 73...74 before long, and I keep thinking to myself, "how long does he have?" It's not that I fear death, as that in and of itself isn't something that is worth fearing. For me, death here on earth is but a release from my sinful flesh (to list only one benefit). No...with my dad, it's the state of his soul that makes me fear his death. It's the state of his soul that makes me wonder if he'll ever truly live. Unless God changes his heart, I wake up each day thinking I may never see my father again. Never.

I think about my brother a lot, too. He knows better than his lifestyle indicates. When will he learn? I mean, really learn? I don't know...and it's a hard thing to continually wonder. But I must. If I don't, if I give up on them, I'm in a sense giving up on God...I'm giving up on the Cross. I can't give up on that, because that's not only the only hope I have for their lives, it's the only hope I have for my life. If I give up on the cross, I give up on the very reason and means for and by which I rise out of bed every morning. The Cross is how I can take hope beyond my frail flesh, lift my head, and rejoice in knowing that Christ has won, and I do not have to admit defeat. The Cross is how I can look at those two men whom I love dearly, and take hope beyond their frail flesh that one day they'll lift their heads and rejoice in knowing that Christ has won for them, and they no longer have to admit defeat.

Keep hoping with me...the Cross is our only hope.

posted by Bolo | 4:51 PM
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