One day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord. That Yahweh is God and there is no other and He is justified in all He does.
The problem with philosophies like: if it feels good, it is good or if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad, is you are a really poor judge. i came across a quote today that summed up pretty well what living in the modern world feels like to me....
"...is in reality to collaborate with and promote a mental disorder." Dr. Paul McHugh, John's Hopkins University Hospital
A judge is supposed to decide right from wrong. To discern what is good from what is bad. To know when evil has been done and promote justice. To correct the wrong. To reward the right. Counselors, politicians, therapists, teachers, parents, spouses, anyone but anyone who advises or has authority over another, has to see themselves as a judge, even if only over their own lives.
But the beginning of wisdom is the fear of Yahweh. The respect of Yahweh. The admission of His place. He is God. You are not. He is Creator. You are created. If we throw this out, the beginning of wisdom, then everything that follows is by nature, madness.
The judges of this world no longer know right from wrong. They turned their backs on that when they turned their backs on the only one who knows. When they turned their backs on their Creator and Designer. They threw out the manual and said, "let's see what this button does." Worse than that, they promote a false justice. A false order. The inmates are running the asylum. They are a children's band who threw out the sheet music, refuse to learn how to play their instruments correctly and instead are all playing whatever they want, whatever fool thing enters their head, and the rest of the world is dancing along to the clashing, clamoring, beatless, tuneless, noise and it doesn't look free, it doesn't look like joy, it looks like tortured, wooden marionettes in the garish light of licking flames and it's all going to come crashing down someday soon and nobody believes it even though we can see it burning, see our own lives on fire, see the lives of friends go up in flames and ash. Bury the cinders and do it again. Dispose of the evidence or it'll kill the buzz. The party must go on. The danse macabre.
And the Designer knows, he does see and he takes pity on us. He has compassion on us and is holding out salvation for anyone who will come, anyone who will admit it, admit they cannot dance to this cacophony anymore, anyone who sees the flames and smells the smoke and knows it's all a lie, knows this isn't what it's supposed to be and you don't have to be perfect and you don't have to have all your crap together and it's not just for good people cuz there aren't any good people. It's for anyone who will cry out and believe in the one God sent, the maestro who knew the tune and played it perfectly for us, Jesus and the only thing that's stopping you from coming is pride. Damnable pride.
And nobody believes me but a day is coming when all will see, when the sky is rolled up and the heavens are opened and God is revealed in all his power and glory and some will look up with tears of joy because the nightmare is over, finally, finally over and their husband has come to avenge the things done to them in the darkness and take them home to mend their bodies and souls...
and some will look up and cry out in terror, cuz the lie they told themselves is over.