Nothing seems to get in the way of travail in this world. As we skim through life, noting this and coveting that, we seem to always be tripping over something. It is the wise among us who realize that what we are tripping over is ourselves. To some, money, friendship, baubles of every sort, including thought, is the game that is played which they call “life.” “He, or she, who dies with the most toys, wins.” Shallow? Meaningless? Probably so to most of us.
There is another way however. A demanding way which rejects this type of pseudo-philosophy. A way to manage or discipline our methods of getting by with as little fanfare as possible. It isn’t a popular way in this current world but fifty or so years ago it was mainstream. The path the world has chosen to take leaves the guide behind at the station. There appears to be no greater fun than to proceed into the unknown by ourselves. To be surprised by sudden income or unexpected death. To be surprised when governments fail, leaving us in a pit of remorse for not having seen it coming, the demise of nations.
What is new in this world is old, ancient. There is nothing new in this world as to humanity. We are limited by our lack of learning or poor teaching or both. We really learn nothing after age eighteen except how to manipulate the world to get up on the others. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Generation after generation we grin and grind out the inane, calling it new.
Where do I get this ludicrous train of thought? Simple. So simple that you already know the answer, the Bible. God’s word in short. It begins with the most laughed at writing of the Bible, Genesis and how the world, the universe came to be. Another ludicrous piece of ancient writing. So stupid that science in all its glory attempts to lay waste to it by imparting theories which they try to call fact. Do they not know that they’re earthbound and all that they theorize can be turned on its head by the next great discovery out there. Out there in the “unknown?” The fact that our perspective on infinity comes from being shut up in the basement of the universe. They’d be better off canning plums than trying to figure out God. Oh, that’s right, they don’t believe in God as He gets in the way of their theorizing. Blindness.
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