Winding Up The Corpses

We are the hoarders. We are the opinionaters and slanderers who value our long-leashed animals crowding the sidewalks more than a child of God passing by. We talk foolishness to animals because we don’t know how to talk to each other. We remain desperately lonely painting our faces and polishing our shoes with anxiety. We consider infatuation to be the crest of love. We evacuate the company of the divine and go on private head trips. We allow sloth into our bones and blame it on depression. We steal from and lie to people we call our friends. We parade about with broken moral compasses and find splinters of fault in everyone else… blind to the logs in our own eyes. We hit and run. We kick when the man is down. And run again. We persecute the righteous.

We even judge our children and speak unkindly to them.

We are less meaningful than the ugliest insects, which at least serve a purpose in their activity. Snakes have more nobility. They have a reason for being. And by trivializing our neighbours with our gossip we diminish ourselves. We stagger forward while our souls are burdened by a million judgements. 

And we expect the Heavenly Father to pay us a personal visit. To force His rescue mission upon us.

If the Heavenly Father of Mercy did arrive and spoke to us, we wouldn’t hear Him. His words would be so strange in our ears we would find Him offensive and ask Him to leave.

So dine alone. As usual. Welcome back to your nightmare.

You are an animated corpse.