The Duhks are a young Canadian group of twenty somethings�tattooed city dwellers. We share little in common. I�m pushing fifty, Texas, red-neck, hardened by prison and a tough world. My hands are calloused, my speech littered with cuss words. I�m trying to be like Jesus but don�t push the matter or I might get the knife off my hip and cut your ass. I�m not joking.
I spend my time engaged with what�s happening in this world�I�ve just finished writing a book on the subject and from my viewpoint the world is in awful shape, getting worse by the day, and by all appearances headed for catastrophe. I see natural disasters, war, disease, famine and wholesale death on the horizon. No one, regardless of intentions can stop this.
Believe it or not, I am an optimist.
When I was born my daddy said I was broken.
The beginning of the end of a life I hadn�t chosen.
He taught me how to give up.
He taught me how to work the system.
But I never had the time, I never had the luxury.
Chorus: Life�s hard, I�ve always known that. I�ve never been handed no welcome mat.
When I die please don�t cry cause heaven�s my home anyhow.
Shining my shoes seems like time�s a wastin
Cause this bright sun is the only shine I need.
They say you only live once and the life you get�s for keeping
But glory�s going to come and make a new man out of me.
Chorus
When I was born my face was like the angels�
I took my father by the hand
I said life won�t be hard now
No life�s hard, I�ve always known that�
I hear the voice of a young girl sing these words and I think of my own kids, the horrible trials they endured while I sat in prison, left to make on their own while their mother worked to support them (One woman and seven children. Do the math). Then the face of my granddaughter comes to mind, how she takes my hand in hers. She was born into a dark time. She knows this, but she also has hope. Her face is like that of an angel and convinces me that in the end, good overcomes evil.
Heaven is my home, but heaven is not a place. I don�t know exactly what it is, but it�s not a place. Perhaps another realm. I don�t buy resurrection of the flesh. It was a woman�s words that got left out of our Bible and modern Christianity by the same men that now author our wars, run our prisons and hang out in our churches. And Jesus told that woman we must leave the flesh behind to find God. For me, heaven is right here, just beyond our reach. I feel the presence of those that have passed into that realm and I know that in the end not even death can kill their essence. In the end, good overcomes evil. The woman�s voice is back, the message louder than before.
Prophesy: Earthquakes, rise of the antichrist, oppression of God�s people, wars, disease, famine, death, but survival of a remnant, return of a savior, a thousand year rejuvenation of the earth and then a new world that operates in peace and harmony. No more pain. No suffering or want. Life beats death. Not in some other place. All here. On this planet. Heaven is all around. Can you not hear the voices?
I see the end of this struggle. Good overcomes evil. Tattooed people rise in the midst of an evil world and proclaim the message. Love is the message. Love God. Love your neighbor. Loving your neighbor is the only way we have to show our love for God. They age and another generation rises, and another. They may appear different, but they are not. They�re just a little stronger. Good cannot be killed, it lives beyond the grave. The hotter the fire, the more highly refined the gold. The earth must be cleansed of this goddamned mess. Evil will defeat itself. But we must remain above the fray.
Kill another man, you kill Jesus. Deny another food, you deny Him food. Burn or blow up a home, you blow up Jesus� home. Feed a hungry person, you feed Jesus. Give someone shelter, you give Him shelter. Pass oppressive laws, you oppress my Lord. Close your borders, deny your Lord. Rob a worker of his wages so you can be rich, you rob Jesus. Take more than you need at the expense of another�
Forget your golden alter and your fancy church. To the fire with them. The same goes for all your flags and your nationalistic pride. Your trip down the aisle. Bodies are the temples in which God�s spirit lives�bodies of people from every nation, race, tribe and yes, even other religions. Take care of his people, take care of this planet, you take care of God.
The only thing you take with you is what you give away.
I may die but this message won�t. I�ve been told that if I so much as give a glass of water to one of Jesus� own, I will be saved. That his Spirit�this Holy Spirit that lives in us�she will make a new man out of me. It may take a village, but it will be done.
A little girl�s hand did what all the tough cops, judges, guards, all their threats, guns and razor wire couldn�t. Another young woman�s voice reminds me of this.
Life�s hard, I�ve always known that. I�ve never been handed no welcome mat.
When I die, please don�t cry, cause heaven�s my home anyhow.
With no apologies,
Don Henry Ford Jr.
