My son blatantly disregarded the terms of our grounding. He doesn't get it. He still thinks he gets to make all the decisions. He even went so far as to ridiculously say, "I can still make decisions whether I'm dead or alive." Hmm. Never thought we'd go there; never thought about getting off in these weeds. But I think that is the ultimate statement of a sinful nature. And he wasn't kidding. He doesn't even want to give up the controls when he is dead. How do you answer that one?
We tried to point out that the final decision is made before you die about where you choose to go. After that, it's too late. That's the point isn't it? On this earth we do have choice. Choice is the only way to make love happen, to choose Him. There is no love without choice. You don't get to go on a bus tour and then decide in the here-after. The man-child was rather stubborn on that point, not wanting to give up his position on the battle front trying to stake his flag on a mountain of sand.
At last the rebellious heart said begrudgingly, "I'll still get to choose what I want to eat there though, like pasta or Chinese." My vision of heaven is perfection, where the Gentleman orders for me knowing me so well that it is always the perfect choice. It did get me thinking about our self-seeking heart that rebels against anyone telling us what to do. Choice. I think that's when we need to wave the white flag of surrender and be taken as a prisoner of Love.
Have you ever had such thoughts? Try taking on a teenager or two, and you'll be surprised what road the conversation takes a turn down. Turn the clock back a few centuries and this is what another had to say about the blurred lines between here and the hereafter...