I’m a big fan of Maxine.  She tells it like it is and I often do too.  I’m much more courageous when I don’t have to confront anyone face to face.  The written word is my battleground and I spurt out things that are better left unsaid.

As we grow older, we often feel entitled to speak our mind.  We feel we’ve earned the right, simply by living this long.  We feel a certain honor has been bestowed on us, because we’re old.  In ancient times, men lived well into their centuries rather than years.  Poor old Methuselah had to endure 969 years.  Can you imagine hanging around for that long?

Of course the world was still in its early stages of existence, and the population was not yet at its maximum.  As Methuselah’s grandson, Noah, pushed ahead, following God’s direction to build a huge ark, the people were in a terrible state.  They ‘d fallen away from their creator and couldn’t be convinced that He was going to destroy all humanity except for Noah’s family.

Methuselah kicked the bucket before that happened, but imagine the degeneration he witnessed in those 969 years.  I wrote a play about the Noah story several years ago, and the kids who were to play the part of those perishing in the flood asked me if this was a true story.  I told them that it was and they really didn’t want that part at all.

Facing death is frightening.  Facing extermination is even worse.  God promised never to destroy the world in that way again, but there has to be a limit to what He will stand for.

I started this post, in hopes of imparting some humor today.  The fact is, there is no humor in what’s going on in our world.  If we don’t wise up pretty soon, we could be facing extinction.  That’s no laughing matter, but I won’t leave it at that. There is still hope for a dying civilization. His name is Jesus.