Bulls on Parade

it seems to be that time again.

every night I see them.
everyday they tell me how much better things are gonna be...when they get the job.
everyday they beat one another down over things they have no power over.
everyday they try and tell me that they are the answer to the problems.

everyday thousands die of AIDS.
everyday thousands die of hunger.
everyday thousands die without hope.
everyday thousands die from war.
everyday thousands people with out Jesus slip into eternity.

I seem to be an observer.

watching. but not seeing.

listening. but not hearing.

each week we walk one step closer to the finish line.
each week the madness becomes more chaotic.

When I was a kid growing up in south MS, the big deal was the Christmas Parade. we went to the same spot each year. nervous excitement always filled my gut as we waited for the last float. we already had beads and candy. we already saw the Shriners riding on the scooters and go carts. all the cowboys and girls had ridden by. all the clowns had passed and all the bands and beauty pagent winners had ridden by in convertable vettes and firebirds. all that was left was santa. and he always came in on the fire truck.

the then cop car would fall in behind with the blinking lights and siren to let us know it was all over.

I had always thought the end would come in a flash. I looked forward to it with great anticipation. thousands have written books and preached about it. it just seemed like all that was left was the cop car with the lights and siren.

the scary thing to me is how we seem to be sitting in the bleachers watching things happen, but have lost the anticipation of the arrival of the Guest of Honor.

Heaven is weird to Americans cause we are fat rich, spoiled and sassy.

throw a frog into boiling water and he will jump out. or so I am told. but place him in cold water and heat till boling then he gets used to it and eventually dies.

are we aware of the heat? are the lights blinking? is that a siren I hear?

or are we just waiting for those who promise us better lives to turn down the burner?
can we see the lights from brightness of self?
can we hear the siren over the bleeting?

Rally round the family with a pocket full of shells.