That We Would Be Called Children of God

Something on Judgement Day that I am not looking forward to is seeing snakes crawl out of my mom's soul in front of everyone, and seeing my dad's grief as he is confronted about his own role in her unrelented abuse of me and psychological dependence that she convinced herself was okay. All of us there at the dreaded day of reckoning will feel the same as we do now, totally unsurprised yet horrified as we sort through the video footage and narrative documentations of the life scenes that turn out to have black bats and rabid pterodactyls flying through each infested backdrop once the spiritual-filter is applied and the whole reality is apparent.  It will be literally dangerous to view the footage of my early years working at barnes and noble, with actual pythons and vipers emerging from the screens and snapping and lashing at all of us conferencing there at whatever Judgement Day location somehow exposes what people refused to deal with on earth. We will go through each segment of recorded evidence, dodging snakes with slitted eyes and giant fangs dripping with actual still-potent venom, probably re-biting and killing some of the friends and neighbors there with us who I thought were safe from additional Satanic attack. I will say, God, my sister already got stung by a jellyfish at the beach one time. I could hardly bear to see it. Can't that be enough?  But it wasn't enough on earth, so why would I expect it to ever be final later on. That is why as part of whatever group of Presbyterians I am assembled with in the horrifying haunted-wilderness-nightscape-welcome-center to eternity, I already know that I will have to rely on my prepared consolation of saying, "I knew we were wrong all along." My preserved doubt will be like the lemon jolly rancher I found in my pocket on the hike back down from Mt. Mitchell as a kid, which was too long of a hike anyway, just like our other trips through the mountains erroneously claimed by the Scotch-Irish, who found their way to South Carolina after becoming too proud that there were no more snakes in Ireland.