Service
Service
Quick, name the one thing that is a sure sign of the coming calamity. We are awash in calamities, what with the Middle East threatening to cool our jets by refusing us our fuel, with grandmothers plying the median strips of our high- ways collecting cans for their medicine, with children shooting each other in school. I grant you that those are indeed damning signs of the times, but I can top it. We are on our way to hard times, I believe, because no one knows how to do anything any more. We recently had our four- month old oven cease to heat. We called the company that sold us this machine, which came with a warranty. I won't tell you the name of the company, but it rhymes with seers. We called on Friday; we're told we'd get a call on Monday about what time they'd come. No call Monday, and no repairman. Denise called Tuesday (take note, do not make her mad) and was told, "The computers are down." But someone would be here that evening. No one came. Wednesday we got a call, they'd be here between 3:30 and 5:30. They came at 12:00 noon. They found the problem, and found they didn't have the part to fix it. It wasn't on the van, nor at the office. It will be here in a week. Oops. The part wasn't even ordered until Saturday.
I can send pictures of my children to anyone in the world with a computer in an instant, but it takes two weeks to fix a stove. I can edit two magazines with a phone line and a pile of chips, but I can't get the room I reserved at a hotel. I can have someone else's kidney put in me, but I can't get the right toppings on my pizza. I can kill my baby with a pill, but I can't see a doctor until an hour after my appointment. And then the insurance forms will go to the wrong place. We are losing the battle for dominion, because we have lost the ability and/or the will to perform the most simple tasks. Mark my words, the end is near. Addendum—They came and put in a new stove on Wednesday.
Are You For 86?
During my recent visit to Chicago, I saw a bumper sticker that I liked. It read: "Don't you think it a bit hypocritical to support abortion after you have been born?' I spent the rest of my time there while riding in a friend's car looking for somebody driving alongside of us sporting a pro-choice bumper sticker! I just was dying to ask them what they thought about my new found favorite anti-murder phrase.
But of course, they don't think of it as killing. Even though there is a death involved. They call the unborn a fetus and the new born a baby. Just what is the difference? Answer: convenience. And now we have a new contraceptive on the market that does more than attempt to prevent pregnancy but actually allows conception and then aborts the youngest of children. The only difference here is the age. I wonder how many "Christian" debutantes will access this drug to avoid the embarrassment of a known pregnancy while attending Bible studies with the boy they are fooling around with. I also imagine that there will be young wives in the church who will use this new safeguard to attempt to thwart God from blessing their lives with children.
Remember, RU-486 is not just a first stage prevention of conception. It is a small abortion kit in each pill. And remember this: the only reason you would do such a thing is the very same reason the pagans practice "choice." They treat children as an inconvenience whose birth must be well timed to fit their schedules or whose death must take place so as not to interfere with their important routines.
Laura the Carrot
Rack, Shack and Benny were being offered a promotion. They were being groomed for positions of influence. They would have the ear of the Big Pickle himself. The power they would wield would be awesome. And if they did not take these positions, the evil Mr. Lunt would continue to oppress the workers and line his own pockets. Mr. Nezzer invites the young lads into his spacious office, and unveils for them his new song:
The babies, the babies, ooh I love some babies.
I don't love the ones where the dad made the babe.
The babies, the babies, ooh I love some babies,
But I'll let others kill those born out of rape.
I won't pick no Vice Pres, I won't pick no justice.
That promises to protect all the babies from ice picks.
I won't stop that pill, can't stop FDA
They're just too strong, now what can I say
The babies, the babies, ooh I love some babies.
One day Nezzer gathers all his faithful servants to sing his new song. The three young lads refuse to sing along. Laura whispers to them, "Come on guys, everyone is doing it."
And if you voted for W, you did the same. No doubt Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego would have been a godly influence on the Babylonian king. No doubt they could have been a restraint against his evil ways, had they kept their jobs. But rather than compromise a single conviction, they went to the furnace. They went not knowing that God would save them. They went because it was the right thing to do. As I write, the election is a week off. I don't know who will win, but I do know who you should have voted for. And I know God honors obedience. Those who sell out for the sake of power, those He spits out of His mouth.