Dimeo was in the Army with me. He didn't want to be. He was a Guardsman, in for six months active duty. He used to sing:
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.
I'll be home for Christmas, because I'm RFA."
(Reserve Forces Act.)
One day he got his separation notice. He carried it around like a trophy. He held it up, saying, "Look at that wonderful word, sep-ah-ray-shun. I love it! I'm getting outta here."
I feel that way about the whole world, to tell the truth. I too am "getting outta here". Until that wonderful day I have the power to separate myself ( I wish others would join me) from fear of death, and, as much as possible, the hopeless sorrow of this world. And until that day I can also separate from the practices I do not believe in.
I can't expect others to join me. I will not try to "reform" them. We have chosen different ways of living, and I bear them no ill will. My desire to act as a Pharisee is absent. Wow, people actually have the right to live as they wish, without opposition from me. Romans 14 frees them and me.
Until that separation day, I plan to be working on myself. Then a group of us will depart. I wonder if Dimeo will be in that company, free at last?