There will be times, there will be terrible times in the last days.
Another night down at the Maté Factor. I get so frustrated when I can't remember something like the term "cataclysmic (a.k.a. gap) theory" at nearly 2 am. Or what the pre-flood canopy was called. I am, however, called to thankfulness for the fact that I was taught about these items. And that I've considered the destiny of the unevangelised, so that I'm not caught off guard. I'm thankful for 24-hour types that work with you when you just snap your fingers and shake your head and go "neph, neph... something about demon babies and female humans. dang it." Elohov just puts trays of unbaked bread around the countertop that I scour the internet on. The dough proofs around me slowly and silently, reminding me of my own brain cells.
Forgotten muffins in the steam oven are actually found to taste better- they get a slightly crusty exterior, and the butter seeps all the way through. I'm going to have to remind them to forget more often.
Somewhere in the background, Shelly and Yakkar discuss the difference between the destinies of the righteous and the holy in the coming age, and 2 Timothy 3 is read aloud. All is right and at peace in Manitou, including myself.
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