Hell is My Destiny

If you were to ask me, a Christian, if I think you’re going
to Hell, this would be my answer: It’s your destiny. And mine.
Somewhere between disdain and confusion, you might settle on
curiosity. Why would I tell you that we’re both bound for Hell? Don’t I have
some good news for you? Shouldn’t I say something positive and uplifting so you
will feel better about yourself and know that God loves you?
In this season of history, not many of us think about our
eternal destiny. Life is hell enough for most people. During my summer-long
blog break, a number of atrocities grabbed the writer in me, but I kept the
page blank.
It started with a mass murder in my own backyard—forty-eight
people gunned down. I could have written my own personal commentary about it,
but so many others took care of that. My people, at least those of us with our
halos on crooked, showed deep sympathy and abiding concern for their people. We
aren’t so far apart—their community and mine. We share a common destiny.
Other countries experienced more deadly disasters. A truck
plowed into a crowd in France, killing over eighty people. A coup in Turkey
left 260 dead, and three suicide attackers killed over forty people. Other
senseless attacks killed other people. But the murderers and the murdered all
share the same destiny.
Again in on my own backyard—the Zika virus made itself known.
It started out with mosquitoes, but then Planned Parenthood classified it as an
STD. It’s just one more plague on the human existence, and this one attacks the
unborn. Some reports note a rise in abortions in Latin American countries.
Concern has been expressed over abortion restrictions in the U.S. if the virus
becomes a national threat. I stand against that ungodly agenda. But I share a
destiny with the abortionist.
The Olympics played out, stirring patriotism here at home.
Big wins. Profound words appreciated by the Christian community. Stupid antics
not appreciated by anyone. Opposing destinies? Not at all.
The Conventions kept some of us up at night ruminating over
whether to go north of the border or south to start our new lives. As the day
approaches, the two potentials just seem to make the voter booth an even
scarier place. What will become of us? I don’t know, but I do know the destiny
of all who vote for one and all who vote for the other.
The unpredictable summer only verified this world is bound
for something we can’t change. Our destiny is before us, globally, nationally,
and individually. God’s got the whole world in His hands, so I won’t fret over
that. He’s got the election too, and the new POTUS will fulfill a purpose
according to God’s plan, whatever that may be. As for me and the confused and
curious, well, destiny is just as much beyond our control.
Nothing we can do will change our destiny of death and Hell.
No amount of goodness, benevolence, altruism, religion, or positivity will
change a thing.  We can’t escape it,
avoid it, or climb out of it. We’re on a fast track headed right for it. We are
most hopeless. Seems unfair, doesn’t it? 
But the entry fee for the other place is way beyond our ability to pay.
So we all share a common destiny, whether we believe in destiny or not.

Maybe that’s not what you wanted from me—to hear I share
your destiny. Maybe you were hoping against hope I’d tell you how to get out of
it. Well okay, here’s some good news: While Hell is my destiny, I’m not on that
train. Next blog, find out why Heaven is my destination.

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