Tomorrow night should be fun.
Not only is Commonwealth Super Middleweight Champion George Groves (Go Team Hayemaker) facing punk a** James Degale in a highly-anticipated grudge match at London’s O2 Arena, but The Rapture is upon us.
Obviously sports are far more fun to watch than religion-related, world-altering events. Still, from what I’ve read, The Rapture is when Christians will be gathered together in the air to meet Christ, as says the Biblical prediction in 1 Thessalonians 4:17.
Sounds kind of neat in its own way I suppose. I never got to go on a hot air balloon ride, so maybe this will be similar…all graceful with a great view. And it’ll be even neater if Debbie Harry’s voice singing the same-named tune is somehow heard from some heavenly sound system via God. Everyone knows big events are all about the little details.
Anyway, this is all apparently beginning at 6pm, starting in New Zealand and working westward around the globe from there. Good. At least London is in the future and George will have time to win his fight prior all of this ensuing.
I caught a glimpse of people lining the streets with their signage this morning, encouraging everyone to be prepared. They’re right. I should have thought about this long before today. Typical of me to procrastinate…something my parents always seem to point out. I can hear my dad now, “Only you would be late to your own rapture.”
I’m trying, I promise! Not that it really matters now…considering.
Still, in preparation of my departure, since clearly I will be lifted by my halo into the Heavens along with all the other saints, I find myself in yet another dilemma.
Leaving Earth is kind of a big deal. Whom should I call? What do I wear? And most importantly, will all the celebrating I plan to do tonight hinder my ascension into Heaven? Does this last night stand as a free pass to hang out with the heathens for one last hoorah that would make the people of Sodom & Gomorrah glory cringe? (As a side note, in my next life, I am totally opening a night club called Sodom & Gomorrah. Miami would love it.)
Anyway, despite what happens tomorrow, whether you are raptured or not, don’t take it personally. Look at it as a growing experience. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. Let’s see who ends up wearing the Fooled name tag tomorrow.