Opinion

To stay sane in this crazy world of ours, we somehow have to find a way to deal with the hand we have been dealt; and it’s not a pretty hand. Those of us who are on the downslope of life, i.e., we have lived more years than we have remaining, tend to value the time we have left more than we did when we were, say, in our 20s or 30s. In our teens, we thought we could live forever. Ah, those long ago days, how I miss them.

I wuzznt born intellijunt. Sorry, intelligent. Having said that, I look back on the times in my life when I came close to dying due to some stupid act on my part, or by way of some simple accident (hydraulic line bursting and spraying me with fluid while working as a truck driver), and I wonder what saved me. Was it God’s hand, or was it “a simple twist of fate,” as Bob Dylan once sang, that saved me from a one-way trip to the funeral director?

What if Jesus called and said he was on the way?