I loved to play basketball when I was younger. If I was awake, I was playing, and if I wasn’t playing, I was thinking about playing. In high school, in order to play basketball, you were required to run cross country. In cross country there is the one mile, and the two mile race and since I always hated distance running, I ran the one mile. The one mile race was always ran first, so the one mile runners were always around to cheer on their teammates in the two mile race. Our school had one of the three best runners in our region, and his name was Warren Beeler. There was a lanky redhead from a nearby county who was also in that group of three, but there was something about him that made him different. Some runners would sprint off the starting line with no intention of winning. These runners were there to burn the good runners out, but this lanky redhead also set a fast pace right off the line. Everybody else with any intention of winning, was forced to keep up, so there we would stand, waiting for him and anyone who could maintain his pace to come into view at the end. Here he would come, with one or two others on his heals, and then he would see the finish line. Once he saw the end of the race up ahead, he would let out a shockingly loud scream and begin a sprint to the finish, powered by all the adrenaline that scream produced, leaving everyone behind. I never saw him lose, but here is the thing, the race did not end when he crossed the line. He ran his race and won the prize, but all the remaining runners had their race to run, so one by one they all posted a finish time. Most of those running, did the best they could do with the ability they possessed. Some however, did not finish. Life is just like that in many ways and even the Apostle Paul compared his life to running a race.

Where am I going with this story as I ponder the last couple of weeks? I don’t know. My heart is filled with news in our country that is shocking.

In Knoxville, my eight year old granddaughter was flashed in a store by an old man who is a registered sex offender, and is now one child among many who will now try to get this sick twisted human put away from decent people trying to navigate in this Godless world.

In South West Florida, my thirteen year old grandson watched a boy who had been body slammed into the floor by another boy twice his size, go into convulsions and he had to be airlifted to a hospital for touching the other boy’s dreadlocks. He may be paralyzed. What in the hell is wrong with us?

I suppose the answer is the reason for where I’m going with this, providing I can pull all these random thoughts together.

There is a chaotic force moving to and fro among us. This force, who once moved methodically, searching for what may become corrupted, tainted, or less than what it was meant to be, now runs frantically back and forth, turning society against itself, sowing discontent and doubt, envy, anger and hate. War. I believe this evil knows it’s time is short. A reckoning is coming. The crooked will be made straight. The lion will lie down with the lamb. There will be no more sickness or war. We won’t remember evil.

In my mind I can see the finish line and there is a multitude that has been watching since we came into view. It is time to shout.