... and I feel fine

And honestly, not even the most absurdly credulous man
in radio REALLY believes this is the Big Finale.

Like most people, I've been more or less using all this "the world is ending on Saturday" stuff as a source of humor and merriment.  Most of us are basically convinced (with much in the way of historical evidence to back us up) that anyone taking any of this seriously is either a nut or at least extremely gullible.  By which I mean unreasonably credulous, on a level that would embarrass George Noory. 

It was while we were in the midst of our merriment -- planning, I believe, how we were going to spend our final hours (though there is some confusion as to whether whatever Scripture these folks were reading were referring to Central Time or Eastern Standard...) -- when one of my co-workers piped up.


"It does make you think, though," she said.  "I mean, really, for some of us, it could end tomorrow."  Depressing, right?

Don't worry.  I have no intention of preaching here, but allow me to encourage you in the following: consider with me the idea that, tomorrow, the world will probably go on, but there's always the chance that you'll no longer be in it.  Let that sink in, and make of it what you will.

Surprise!

As such things do, this concept led to other avenues and rabbit trails, until finally somebody wondered: would you want to know when you were going to die?  Turns out, I don't.  I love a good surprise.

Some day, I figure I'll just be walking down the street, totally oblivious to anything and everything (if you know me, this is no great feat of imagination), when ....

WHAM!

Without warning, instead of the post office or whatever, I'll be walking toward Jesus, who will be chuckling.  I expect I'll laugh along with him, and say, "You got me, Lord.  Totally did NOT see that coming."