Flames Everywhere

This morning I am struck by a contrast.

Last night, I dreamed I was in some kind of resort area near Miami. There was a beautiful freshwater lagoon there. It must have been fed by a strong stream, because the water was cool and clear. My dad’s boat was anchored in the lagoon.

Some guy was on the boat, holding his pet python by the tail. He was lowering it into the water so he could swim with it. The snake was enormous. Maybe 30 feet long. It was not on board with his plans. It was confused.

He asked me to hold it for him while he got in the water. After he got in, I let the snake go. I wondered if it was a good idea to swim with a python that was likely to wrap itself around him and cause him to drown, but that was not my problem.

I found myself walking in a building next to the lagoon. The building was open, like a parking garage. There were no windows. Just short walls. There was a huge swimming pool by the building, and it bordered the lagoon.

For some reason, the actress Tea Leoni was swimming in the pool. No idea what that was all about. I wanted to swim in the lagoon, but I was afraid it was cold. I came up with a plan. I would go in the pool first. It would be warmer than the lagoon. It would get me used to being in the water, and then I would move to the lagoon. I took off my shirt and implemented my plan.

The whole time, I felt joy, like a horse rolling in the grass and sniffing the air because it’s so happy to be alive. I still feel it.

I also felt a lot of joy yesterday.

I have a new cordless chainsaw, which I bought because tool shortages are expected any day now, and I needed to cut up a big oak that had fallen in my pasture. I got my saw and took the tractor out to the oak.

I limbed the whole thing in about 20 minutes. I was zipping through limbs and then grabbing them with my right hand and flinging them out of the way. I felt power flowing through me, as though I were a superhero. I was working more for the purpose of feeling the joy than the need to move the tree.

I feel that kind of joy often these days. I feel it when I run errands. When I go to stores, I often park far from the doors so I can enjoy the sensation of walking. I feel more like I’m flying.

I believe the joy comes from praying in tongues.

This morning, however, I saw what other people are going through, or, more accurately, what’s going through other people. I went to a website called The Hill. You may know of it. It’s a prominent news site, and they allow comments.

I saw a story about a conservative radio host who died from coronavirus. His name was Marc Bernier, and he called himself “Mr. Anti-Vax” because he did not trust the vaccines.

I knew the comments would be filthy, but I decided to look anyway, just to confirm my understanding of the way the world is descending into hatred.

Here are some things I saw.

The rest of the comments are similar, except that many are obscene. This is about a dead man who suffered.

Try and imagine this happening in, say, 1960. If people had been able to comment on news stories about the presidential race between Nixon and Kennedy, or about the communist threat, do you think a major news organization would have printed garbage like this? Would the public have accepted it, or would we have demanded action against the people responsible?

The world of 2021 is not the world of 1960. It’s a different culture.

God tells me little phrases from time to time, and several years ago, he said, “The hate is already here.” He was referring to the hate that would result in a murder pandemic during the final days, as a result of the release of the red horseman of the apocalypse. Wow; he was not joking. America is already full of people who are fully ready to kill, rob, rape, and torture those they disagree with.

How can I feel so good when everyone else feels completely wretched?

I have often said that people who are close to God live in a different reality. The world of the wheat is not like the world of the tares. We are blessed and looked after. Our future is too bright to be described. We take pleasure in things like love and graciousness. The tares enjoy ideation on violence. They dream of descending on the rest of us like stinging insects. They already do it whenever conservatives or Christians hold an outdoor event.

Look at what brings them pleasure in life. Worse, their future is horrible. They will be plucked up and burned, not just for a while, but forever. We’ll be gone, safe in the arms of a being composed of power and love, and they will be shrieking and sobbing in complete, permanent loneliness and obscurity.

They abuse and insult us, and many of us take the bait and fight back with the same weapons. When one of us does that, he thinks he’s opposing them, but he’s really joining them and opting into their future of failure and agony.

As an example of our increasing inability to self-monitor, there is a group of conservatives called the Angry Vikings. Have you ever heard of anything so stupid? Why would any intelligent person want to identify with Vikings? The Vikings were a plague to everyone around them.

I know what’s happening. Many white conservatives feel that white culture is bland and tame. It bothers them that people don’t find white men threatening. They look at violent urban blacks, and they feel they are connected to primitive, tribal energy white people lack. They try to compensate by reaching back to pitiable Northern European religions practiced by bloodthirsty, terrifying tribes of blue-eyed barbarians. They want the world to know white people can be scary, too.

Basically, they want to undo centuries of evangelism. They want to share in the defeats of failed cultures because it makes them feel tough and important. They want to wallow in drama, just like urban gang members, instead of succeeding as peaceful, loving citizens.

The weird thing is that the descendants of the actual Vikings are extremely tame and orderly. They’re boring. Scandinavia is known for its blandness.

When you choose God, you choose love, joy, and victory. When you choose BLM or the Proud Boys or the Angry Vikings, you choose hate, cruelty, frustration, defeat, and the drug you love more than any other: drama.

You also choose silliness. “Angry Vikings”? Come on. How can a grown man be excited about calling himself an Angry Viking?

Organizations like Antifa, BLM, the Proud Boys, and the Angry Vikings are gangs. It’s as though Americans were using the movie Gangs of New York as a template for living. Some gangs are much worse than others, but a gang is a gang.

I love joy, just as I love love. It’s very pleasant, having these things pour through me. A lot of the time, I feel as though I’m about to leave the ground and fly; as though I could jump off the world and depart. Maybe it’s about to happen; I keep thinking the rapture is close.

I want to stay clean so nothing holds me down when the time comes. I want God’s character–the fruit of the Spirit–to dominate inside me from now on. It’s not just morally right; it feels good.

I always say people who use drugs are trying to replicate the sensation of God’s presence inside them. It’s true. When you feel God inside you, it’s very much like being on drugs. He brings sensations of euphoria, peace, and power. People who are gorging on hate are cutting themselves off from all this.

It’s no wonder America is in love with weed. Weed appeals to angry, worried people. It’s not for pleasant individuals who are easy to get along with. It makes jerks feel better about life so they don’t have to change. People are using dope as a salve to soothe open wounds God is supposed to cover.

I can’t thank God enough for getting me off social media and for advising me not to read a lot of news comments. He was so right. I can’t wait for the day when I know I will never have to stare into this dumpster fire again.