I don't even know if I'd be content to be content. All those smiling faces I see everyday stare absently into nothingness make me want to throttle something evil. At least birds sing in their nothingness and add some beauty to the world. But these people seeing nothing beyond the immediate and knowing nothing beyond themselves comment on recent sports, new books, food, weather and gossip. Knowing that I myself am one of them burns my heart with shame. Can they really be happy talking about such things, things that are hear today and gone tomorrow? Is it possible that underneath the crust of fine feelings a volcano, perhaps one they don't even know about, awaits a moment to erupt. Isn't life more then a game with lots of variables? Doesn't every breath we breathe bring us closer to a final encounter with a holy God who will hold us accountable for what we did and didn't do with our time on earth? How will people justify watching every episode of Psyche before such a God? How will we justify indulging our passions in food movies and laziness? What words will Everyman be able to conjure before God when asks how we stewarded divine blessings?
Perhaps one day I'll see what everyone else sees and become content to sit still....until I'm propelled to move by some harsh slap from reality. Perhaps a failing grade, perhaps a killed friend, perhaps a night in jail or a speeding ticket, fear of a being poor, these are the things which motivate the ever smiling Everyman to do something. I realize I'm very distrustful of all this. But why shouldn't I be? Don't we all live on a planet which is mostly composed of molten fire? The outside looks fine and good but who has plumbed to the depths of the earth? Why should humanity be any different? Don't we look fine on the outside but inside rages a fire most people have only ever felt but never controlled which often erupts in fits of rage, sulkiness, depression, moodiness or insanity? Is it not right to be distrustful of someone whose forgotten that they are a ticking time bomb, hijacked and prone to blow at an unknown time. No, perhaps that is too much. Not "a" ticking time bomb but rather a multiplicity of time bombs some big, some small, all dangerous.
Why do I write this? Because I wanted to write a blogpost and this is what came out easiest. Perhaps, it might alert people to the destructive fire within themselves, which is useful, only when under control. Comment if you like or just be confused by my lack of sense and inability to use good punctuation. Oh and have a happy Easter :)