A Good Man

 

He was a good man and I felt privileged to deacon his requiem. He believed in the electric universe, to say nothing of Christ Himself, and here's a song:

Requiescat,

LSP

ESCHATON

 

Thunder and lightning SMASH down upon this small asset-stripped Texan farming community, shaking the ancient wooden timbers (what?) of the Compound. Like no kidding, a ferocious storm, turning night into day with all the fury of an electric universe.

Yes indeed, the climate's changed with elemental, eschatological fury. And so we stand, undaunted, on the rain lashed porch, daring our adversary to do its worst. 

Seriously, this storm's pretty crazy, be safe out there.

Apocalypse,

LSP

Lightning!

 

No sooner had Stations of the Cross and the obligatory Lenten meal and class finished than it began to rain. Not heavily, but the drops were big, Texan style. Then the wind picked up and ominous rumbling filled the air. Thunder, like the sound of guns along the Oder Front, or Deep Purple.

Lightning began to arc, illuminating clouds which scudded across the firmament of heaven as night turned to electric day. It was easy, at that moment, to believe in the Electric Universe. Roll on, Nicola Tesla.

In other news, it's the Feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary tomorrow. Here's the Collect:

WE beseech thee, O Lord, pour thy grace into our hearts; that, as we have known the incarnation of thy Son Jesus Christ by the message of an angel, so by his cross and passion we may be brought into the glory of his resurrection; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

Somehow this seems apt in the storm and my mind goes to  I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.

God bless,

LSP