Storm Coming

Our house is quiet tonight, and the hills and dales among which it sits are quiet as well. Amazing how fast the change came…just a few weeks ago and we had the air conditioning on. Tonight, it’s the furnace. This is the way with powerful forces. They can change so rapidly it staggers anyone who witnesses the change. A flock of thousands of birds, a school of thousands of fish…they move as one when they change direction, and their energy is beyond comprehension.

Our house is quiet tonight, but the land is not quiet. Tomorrow will see the beginning of something, and who can say what it will be or how it will play out?

I’ve been praying a novena for President Trump along with Father Mundabor, a novena which will conclude tomorrow. Have I done this because I am a staunch Republican? No. Is it because I think President Trump is a messiah, as half the country saw community organizer Barack Hussein Obama? No. Is it because I think voting is my duty, or that voting makes sense? No.

I do it because I want President Trump to win. I want him to win because the dementia patient (and his dangerously stupid running mate) against whom the President is vying for the presidency hate people like me and my family, and would happily see us removed from the face of the earth. I pray for President Trump because he drives the people who hate my people absolutely insane. I pray for President Trump because if he wins, my grandchildren get a few more years before the party of Lady Gaga and Joy Behar and Chuck Shumer and Cher and Nancy Pelosi and Don Lemon and Rachel Maddow and Hilary Clinton finally march across the plains of Mordor and start swinging their swords.

May God protect His children, and may He thwart the wicked, and may He grant victory and success to our current President. If Joe Biden and his camp mange to steal the election from President Trump, we will see what darkness looks like, and we will see it more quickly than we might imagine. The direction of things will whipsaw quicker and more violently than any flock of birds of the air.

~ S.K. Orr

2 Comments

Sean G.

November 3, 2020 at 9:41 am

I had no interest in voting a couple months ago but just did for the same reason you so eloquently put—I want him to win. If we are in fact surrounded and about to be eaten I’d still rather throw one last haymaker at the approaching undead monsters who drag their feet on the pavement as they surround us. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me joy to see them squeal, even if just for one last time before their pyrrhic victory.

Beyond all reason my heart is filled with hope this morning. Not for elections but for the salvation of souls and the defeat of Satan and his army.

admin

November 3, 2020 at 9:59 pm

Very fine comment, Sean…and thank you.

On the drive home tonight, I passed a cattle truck, crammed with beef on the hoof. As you know, my heart is tender (perhaps overly so) towards animals. I thought of how these confined creatures are heading towards their deaths. For now, they can move a foot or two forward, a foot or two backwards, a few inches to either side. They have a certain limited and sketchy “liberty” within the confines of the cattle truck, but they have no influence with the driver of the truck, and they will soon arrive at the big building where a man in an apron carrying a long tool will be waiting for them at the top of a ramp.

Tonight, I feel as if I am in a cattle truck, and I wish I had big, sharp horns and that I were going to be the first one out of the truck when it stops. Sometimes, all we can do is…inflict what damage we can. This of course flies in the face of the “turn the other cheek, always be passive and meek” crowd that makes up the majority of Christendom.

Cheers to you, my friend.

Sean G.

November 3, 2020 at 9:41 am

I had no interest in voting a couple months ago but just did for the same reason you so eloquently put—I want him to win. If we are in fact surrounded and about to be eaten I’d still rather throw one last haymaker at the approaching undead monsters who drag their feet on the pavement as they surround us. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me joy to see them squeal, even if just for one last time before their pyrrhic victory.

Beyond all reason my heart is filled with hope this morning. Not for elections but for the salvation of souls and the defeat of Satan and his army.
- admin
  
  November 3, 2020 at 9:59 pm
  
  Very fine comment, Sean…and thank you.
  
  On the drive home tonight, I passed a cattle truck, crammed with beef on the hoof. As you know, my heart is tender (perhaps overly so) towards animals. I thought of how these confined creatures are heading towards their deaths. For now, they can move a foot or two forward, a foot or two backwards, a few inches to either side. They have a certain limited and sketchy “liberty” within the confines of the cattle truck, but they have no influence with the driver of the truck, and they will soon arrive at the big building where a man in an apron carrying a long tool will be waiting for them at the top of a ramp.
  
  Tonight, I feel as if I am in a cattle truck, and I wish I had big, sharp horns and that I were going to be the first one out of the truck when it stops. Sometimes, all we can do is…inflict what damage we can. This of course flies in the face of the “turn the other cheek, always be passive and meek” crowd that makes up the majority of Christendom.
  
  Cheers to you, my friend.

2 Comments

Sean G.

admin