How can I say, “It doesn’t matter!”

How can I talk about the lost, the lonely, the hurting in a world where the only thing that is important is me, my and mine?  How do i tell people that in the battle of life and death, those that spend their lives trying to gain everything are loosing, if they are not directly and immediately involved in the alleviation of pain and suffering?

I walk into churches, mega churches, where there is enough money to feed thousands of suffering and dying people and they just don’t care, they want…?  I watch the conference attendees and listen to them talk about becoming Bridge Champions or the fastest runners in the world for folks that are over 80 and wonder, “What the hell am I doing here?”  I watch the same people, in the waiting rooms of hospitals, crying out to God for mercy, when they are in need but all day, every hour, they look to better themselves.

Ok, they took good care of me in the Marines, so I could fight.  They fed me, watched me and exercised me to the point of exhaustion and yet, everyone knew it was to prepare me to face a bullet.  I did.  I did what they asked and I am glad I did but to hang around the O club or the Legion and look at the soldiers that made it through and are now chasing longevity is disgusting.  God help me!  I don’t care if I live to be 150, someone is in need.  You want to find the cure of disease in your body and ignore the kid that is dying, laying in excrement, and you won’t do anything about it!  You won’t go and you damn sure are not going to send someone.  How can you be so callous?

Bleeding, shot to hell, a friend crawled across a road, under fire, acting like a dead man, dragging a dead buddy for cover, to get ammo so the rest of us could live and became a hero.  He said, “It wasn’t for the others, I was out of ammo.”  But we knew different.  He wanted us to live and that is why he got the ammo and crawled back.  We needed each other to stay alive.  I think it would have been better to die, than watch millions of Christians (gimme a break) singing and dancing, going from one conference to another, walking in divine health just so they feel better.

You want me to have teeth because I lost mine.  You want me to have a healthy body and not be broken and hurting, because it pains you to see me, begging for others that have nothing.  You act like you care but it is your own butt that you are worried about.  What would happen if we decided to work like hell so we could make a bunch of money and then, feed this kid.

To be eaten, alive, by flies.  Jesus, gimme a break here.  They won’t go and I am stuck.  I attended a conference on divine health and this kid could not eat.  My friends want me healthy and paid 60 bucks for me to go.

Aw, gimme a break.  I laid my life down for my country.  I worked and paid taxes and bought the better life dream and then, looked at the starving.  What if this kid is my brother?  What if my daddy screwed around and this kid is mine.  So, he (she?  starving reduces people to bones that are sexless).

You say I offend you?  Fine, don’t get too close.  I go, I get kicked, beaten and stabbed.  For my country, that was cool, for God, you say fool.  Gimee a break here.  Have yer parties, give yer friends more stuff so they have to rent storage for their Jesus Junk but God, lemee outta here.  What happens when people can’t get enough but still want more and more and more?  The fall of Rome?  It is in Louisiana, maybe you know a city near by?  New Orleans?  I was there when the street preachers told the churches and folk that God was pissed and they said they were walking in divine health and God loved them and God would never, ever let them get wiped out.  Peanut butter with sticks.  That was what was left and yet, they say it wasn’t God, like he was busy on the toilet or something when it happened.

Matthew 25:31-46, duck.

Another Sunday and the preachers are going to tell me that God loves me and wants me to be healthy, wealthy, wise and by the way, don’t forget the building program, the pastors new clothes and car and…… shit.  “Woe unto you….”  when was the last time I heard that?  I don’t think anyone has the balls to read that and look in the mirror.

Told you not to read this.  I am just a bitter soldier stuck in a nice clean place when I want to go toe to toe with the enemy.  You don’t wanna go, send me.

Party hearty while you can, you are gonna die.  Me?  I just want to grab a demon on the way to visit God.

The patch is real, lost sight in my right eye.  I look forward to dying for the kid  ………… if he is still alive.

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