I used to say that there were only two things that I really feared: nuclear war and tornadoes.

I’m still afraid of both of those, of course; I think most reasonable people are, to some extent. But as the years have slipped by, my list has gotten longer. I’m not like the TV character “Monk,” who lived in mortal terror of everything from heights (not unusual) to milk (rather strange). I’m not claustrophobic, agoraphobic, coulrophobic, or germaphobic. The things that most worry me are associated with our changing world, and my place in it as I age.

Oh, sure . . . I’m nervous about falling if there’s no one around to help me up and my cell phone has gone flying across the room where I can’t reach it.

I don’t really fear death; but I do worry about contracting a long, lingering illness.

I fear being totally dependent on others.

I fear losing what’s left of my mind.

All of those are probably quite normal concerns for someone of my age. But most of all, I fear what’s happening to our world, to my country in particular . . . and what will happen to the next generations if something isn’t done to stop this descent into madness.

America’s third president, Thomas Jefferson, seems to have suffered the same concerns when he said:

“I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that His justice cannot sleep forever.”

I wonder . . . are we living that divine justice now?

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
5/15/26