The Bittersweet Paradox

Those jacka**es. Yeah, that's right. You read that correctly. I rarely feel the urge to swear, but this situation fits the bill. Strong words, I know. I don't like that that's what comes to mind, and I'm sure it's not what Jesus would be thinking, but they're the thoughts I'm having.

My friends Clint and Diana and I were coming home from getting fast food and we noticed that traffic was annoyingly backed up from what looked like an accident. As we got closer, though, we got increasingly more annoyed when we saw what was actually happening. On our left, there was a church hosting a military funeral. On our right, there was a group of idiot protesters holding up the most incensing posters I have ever seen. We quickly realized that the police were there not to clean up an accident, but to prevent some rightfully pissed off driver from causing one by running his car through these group of crazies. These signs so articulately protested the war:

"Your pastor is a whore"

"God hates you"

"Fag body bags"

And other signs with stick figures doing things too inappropriate for polite society.

The thing that makes me most angry about the whole scenario is the poor family bereaved from having lost their son or daughter in a horrible way. These people in no way respected the life of this soldier, or the cause for which he or she died. And to do all this in the name of Jesus. That may be the thing which makes me most angry. Speaking for God, as if that's their job, and yelling at those driving by that God hates them. Well, I have a message for these protesters.

God LOVES you.

I can't believe that!!

I miss you too! We definately need to get together!