lax parenting

More and more kids are vanishing from under our noses. I'm not the least bit
surprised. As I walk my dogs past a neighborhood park I observe many kids at
play there, unchaperoned by adults. I must look suspicious glancing around
looking for invincible grown-ups. Their only guardians are kids just slightly
older than they are, I'm not talking sixteen to eighteen, I'm talking two and
four to six. They run up to meet my canines and no parent pokes their head out
of any house to warn them about strangers. If I wanted to bring a innocent home
with me it would be easy, just use my dog as bait. (Not that I have any need
for more kids).

It's possible I'm wrong, there could be scores of armed policemen in every domicile waiting for me to fall into temptation and snatch a decoy, these are probably little robatrons. If I grab one I could be instantly surrounded with rifles pointed at my chest, or the robatron could simply
implode in my arms eliminating me altogether, reducing the pervert pool. Doubt it, this isn't a plot written by Stephen King.

There are hundreds of unattended children at play outside right now free for the taking. They aren't being kidnapped, they are being offered on the alter. It's a virtual supermarket for
perverts. Go around any corner and take your pick, Latino, white, black, boy or
girl, one or two, infant, toddler, preadolescent. It's like the parents are
begging you to relieve them of their duties.(Wouldn't it be nice to be foot
loose and fancy free again?) Then they go crying to the authorities that junior
or princess is missing. Why weren't they watching them if they cared so much?
How could they let a person with a single digit age walk home from a friend's
house three blocks away at night. Hell, it's dangerous in the day light. Crime
isn't a night time profession. The hours are lenient and worker friendly, crime
can be worked around any schedule: school, day care, playtime, any location:
bus stop, school yard, library, mall, street corner.

Creeps don't even have to have wheels to nab a kid. They get delivery service when kids ring their doorbells selling for the school band. I've looked out to the curb and no one
is walking with these mini-merchants when I answer my door, and worse yet, they
walk right in. I give them the lecture that their parents should have
delivered, "It's not smart to go into a stranger's house, you could get hurt!"
They either don't blink an eye or run out screaming, (maybe I should change my
approach but just maybe it taught them a lesson). I need to have paintings on
my walls of tortured kids, maybe this would deter them from crossing my
threshold, but if one shows up missing and searchers knocked at my portal I
would probably be the first carted of for questioning.

Yes, I know you can't watch kids every minute of the day. They have wandering minds and are escape artists. I caught my own twelve year old daughter about to crawl in the back
seat of a car she was being lured into by a kid with a snake.(and she'd had the
lecture many times, it just hadn't taken) The driver looked like something from
the night of the dead. After I gave him (and her) a piece of my mind I towed
her home by the ears. She claimed I embarrassed her in front of her friends.
When I asked how long she knew them, one hour counted as a long term
relationship. Kids make friends real fast. Now that I look back on it, the kid
in the back of the car could have been a victim himself. My daughter also had
the habit of going for midnight walks. I installed a home alarm system so that
when the front door opened at night I would know it, so would the security
company! She has made it to thirty two, and still not concerned about night
time escapades but she's on her own now.

It's not safe for adults out in this world, why do we leave our children unsupervised.
I wouldn't let my kid any where near a person I hadn't met. There are people I know
I wouldn't go near! Yet most parents, not all parents, let their kids sleep over with unmet parents of other kids.

When I was in my twenties riding a bike for exercise a guy in a
pick up asked if I needed a ride. I politely said, "No thanks, I'm on a ride,
you --- -- - -----". How often does this occur with youngsters where they
actually accept the offer. On my way home from middle school once, I was stopped
by a middle aged, well dressed guy in a car with a rack of clothes in the back seat. He claimed he was looking for new models and I had potential. I believe he was telling the truth,(I was
kind of cute) but I don't believe my pictures would have been seen by a audience
larger than one. At the time I feel like I had let opportunity pass me by, but
now I realize I had actually listened to my parents' warnings that had
penetrated my subconscious. I lucked out. Too many other kids have lost.

Maybe if we had tougher laws on lax parents more kids would survive. I know the
government is getting too in-our-face with laws on the home front but something
has to be done to assure our kids will stay on the home front or be placed where
they are in less danger of neglect. We need to make sure our playgrounds,
schools and malls aren't buffet tables for freaks. Personally I don't mind
being a Mrs. Cravetz (think Bewitched) when it comes to being nosey about our
nations youth. I don't understand why police cars on patrol don't park next to
play areas when they see adult-less children at play, follow the kids home and
give a list of known pedophiles in the area to the parents. Boy would they be
surprised, I certainly was when I researched it on the internet, and that only
divulged the "known" pedophiles. Remember every criminal hasn't been caught or
started their life of crime yet. This might prevent some disappearances. Known
sex offenders can't be anywhere near a place kids gather, Chuckie-cheeses, the
mall, schools, children’s hospitals, apartment complexes, family reunions ect.
It is hard for them to find residences and employment. I think an excellent
solution to this is to build them their own communities, self sufficient and
enclosed so we don't have to worry about them, oh yeah, these places do exit,
they're called jails.

slander

The Department of Aging and Disability services is a regulatory agency that looks out for the best interest of assisted living and nursing home residents. It works with paid staff and volunteer ombudsmen who have gone through background checks and intensive training. Criminal checks are also run on applicants for the protection of the agency's reputation and of course the residents safety. Volunteers come from all walks of life: ministers, sales persons, social workers, ect. I'm one of those volunteers an I happen to be a nurse.

I loved going to my assigned nursing home and making friends of the residents. Sometimes it was like a first meeting every time! I really fell in love with them, the ninety five year old lady whose response every time I asked her how she was doing was, "I'm fit as a fiddle!" The little lady who sat in the hallway watching the goings-on like it was her front porch, the couple whose wife had Alzheimer’s and he was there daily to care for his bride of sixty something years. The couple whose husband is on hospice, dying. I've come to think of them as family.

Yes. I loved these people.Unfortunately the staff was nervous about my unpredictable visits. The activity director complained I followed her around and made her nervous. I've only seen her three times in five months, I go mostly in the evenings and weekends. Boy, the stress I've placed her under. I hope she seeks counseling. I explained I was the new kid on the block and I was learning the ropes. If walking and talking with someone who's had their job for several years made her nervous, I wonder why? I kept informing her what a wonderful job she was doing, maybe she had a reason to not believe me? There really wasn't much variety on her activities list.

If questioning the week end charge nurse about a residents chest pains made her uneasy, imagine how the resident with the chest pains felt. If suggesting they put names and pictures on the doors so staff and confused residents could find their rooms was wrong; oh, well. Or better yet, if they would just put a door up on a bathroom that opened into the hallway so residents could use it without making it a spectator sport.

So if a nursing home doesn't want to be regulated what can they do? Nothing, they can't interfere with an ombudsman's job. Oh, wait, yes they can. They can lie. New invention? Nope. It started in a garden years ago by a slippery little fella named Satan. The nursing home administrator can call the paid ombudsman and tell her that the volunteer, who came too often and asked to many questions, was seen taking pictures right and left with a camera, violating resident's privacy. Once again, did I mention I was a registered nurse? That means I have HIPPA and patient confidentiality imprinted on my brain. I think I know not to bring a camera and go to town in a nursing home like a tourist.

Can you spell s l a n d e r. In case you can't spell it, here's the definition:

slan·der (slndr)n.
1. Law: Oral communication of false statements injurious to a person's reputation.
2. A false and malicious statement or report about someone.

Oh, yeah, that is right, the nursing home had me removed without so much as a trial. I've never even met the administrator to defend myself. No. He just went on hearsay. Lies, no soft soaping it: Lies, lies lies. I've lost my little family of residents that I've come to admire. I've lost my good name. I've almost lost my desire to help the helpless. Volunteer work doesn't pay enough for this heart ache. You must really love what you do to put up with this kind of abuse. My boss believed me;I hope. She offered me a choice of other nursing homes that need a volunteer. Homes that are actually closer to mine, convenient for me to make more spontaneous appearances. Homes with more problems. Oh, great, so if they don't like me pointing these problems out what will they do? And there is always the possibility of a shadow of a doubt now existing in my boss's mind because of slander: " false statements injurious to a person's reputation."

I want to suggest filing a complaint that if it was true, that I was photographing residents, the nursing home should have had me escorted out by their security guards, and this should be on record somewhere: evidence! It seems they should be guilty of neglect. I could ask them to produce witnesses, but they could do as Jesus' accusers did, ask the staff they pay to lie also? It's against the law to hinder ombudsmen in their work, but it seems if you don't want to be regulated it's entirely acceptable to slander, i.e. to lie, about whoever it is that happens to be regulating you. If the word gets out, all the nursing home administrators will be looking for tall tales to tell,(excuse me, I mean fabricating tall tales!). It should be easy, they don't seem to have to provide proof of their allegations. This could be the beginning of the end for regulatory agencies.

untouchables

When we think of untouchables we invision India and her caste system and are
repulsed by the brutality of it. Yet we have our own untouchables. Ours come
from different stratospheres of society. It's not heridary or class distinct.
It is ill defined and can attack anyone. One day you'll be on the top of the
world, invited anywhere, respected by all.Then you slowly find it hard to get
out of bed every day and suddenly you'll be torn from your home by people
doing it for your best interests. You'll be taken to a strange building and
placed in a small room. It will have windows but the curtains will never be
opened, there may be electricity but you'll never know for sure because no one
turns the lights on. There may be someone else in the other bed but you can't
hear them breathing due to the machine whirling loudly at their bed side.People
will walk down the hallways talking and laughing with each other. You'll try to
get their attention but your words have become indistinguishable. They'll come
get you sometimes and sit you in front of a large screen television with others
who are slumped over and drooling. Around you will be people standing upright
eating cake and wearing colorful scrubs visiting with each other and ignoring
you. They don't notice you sliding out of your chair, practically on the floor,
your back all bent out of shape and your chin hanging on the safty strap.You've
become an non being. You've become old, wrinkled, unsightly. No one wants to be
associated with you.Your family can't tolerate the smells around you so they
won't come. You're dirty and sweaty and smell foul so they wouldn't touch you
even if they did visit. They are ashamed to tell your friends they placed you
here so no one can find you. Your friends wouldn't know what to say to you
anyway, you have nothing in common anymore. You can't converse about world
topics, the lattest fashions, recent movies and the news means nothing to
you... Who's the president now? The building your in is nothing more than the
lobby to the morgue,a pre registration area for the funeral home. My opinion
is time will be saved if these nursing homes were built next to the cemetaries,
there would be less travel time disposing of our untouchables.
But the good news is this can be changed. We can visit these untouchables every
day, talk to them, encourage them and make things better for them by gettting
involved and writing letters to our congressman and the newspapers so when it
comes time for our families to dispossess us things may have improved. We all
deny it will happen to us. Our families are close. We care for each other.
Don't count on it buddy. Our families have lives outside of the home, they
can't be with us all the time. When we become a burden and can't get out of bed
we'll become untouchable, and suddenly you'll be torn from your
bed...................

Lets go shopping

It's the holiday season, time to shop till you drop. First trip is to the toy store, bring your kids to help and let them go wild, picking out anything they would want. Cute cuddly bears, dogs, and cats, stuffed animals to snuggle up to at night and be comforted by, educational toys to divert attention from the daily routine, fun toys that teach togetherness, interactive toys, sport toys, CD players to listen to good audio books, oh, yeah, get some audio books while you're at it. Don't pass the roller blades, they'll get the kids out of the house for hours, good exercise for detouring obesity, along with the skate boards a must for every kid. Get it all to the cash register and pack in in the trunk, real good and secure. Then it's off to the mall.
Tons of warm socks, mittens, hats, scarves, and flannel PJ’s with Scotty dogs running across the borders, to lighten the mood and warm old digits. So much to buy, so much catches the eye. We need to get it all, books with large print, magnifying glasses- for the regular print books, and look at all the radio CD players, gadgets and gimmicks, and just plain old decks of cards. Lotions and potions to soothe and pamper the skin. Go to the check out counter and don't flinch at the cost.
Last stop, the grocery store. Fill the cart up with pie fillings, and pie crusts, canned meats, sugar plums are a must, cranberry sauces, stuffing mixes; things to fix in a jiff. Things for kids, snacks and treats, fruit galore, and don't forget nuts, they're so good for you. Don't leave anything off the list, use two carts if you must. Get things to stuff in the stockings that will be hung by the chimney with care. You may finally need to use your credit card here, just sign the receipt and get out before you think of something else to buy.
Now our shopping is done, but before we go home to our family gathering, our good hot meals, and soft cozy beds, we have three more stops to make. The first is to Toys for Tots to unload a third of the trunk. These toys for children in foster care and hospitals. The stuffed animals will go to a toddler who has been abused yet still misses his mom. The CD player will go to a teenage girl living with her mom in the women's shelter, along with her other Christmas wish, the Bible on CD. The football gear will go to a young boy whose father was sent to jail for breaking an entering, thank heavens he's in the big brother program, hopefully junior will have a better male role model.
The next stop will be the salvation army to donate gifts for long term residences, women's havens and homeless shelters. The scarves will go to a ninety year old lady who still remembers her mother was born on a ship immigrating to America, she has seen her whole family pass on. The flannel PJ’s will go to a young man of eighty with Parkinson’s and a daughter who spends his money and doesn't make payments to the nursing facility, they're having to consider dismissing him. The mittens will warm many cold arthritic fingers this winter, but senior citizens are known to wear mittens through out the year!!!
The final stop is at the food bank, that fills a great many pantries. Those coming to the soup kitchens these season haven't been eating well throughout the year. They'll bag some food stuff up for the young mother of three whose husband was killed by a drunken driver. Some more groceries will go to the schools to feed children whose parents don't make enough money working two jobs to keep the table adequately supplied because the cost of health insurance doesn't cover all the treatment for their youngest child's leukemia. They've already had to sell their house and most of their posseccions to finance the care, the doctor, refuses to take his co-pay, settling only for the insurance re-inbursement! There are a few kind hearted doctors out there, some actually went in for patient care, not to buy Mercedes!
Now, home at last, worn out from a day of fast and furious shopping, you can sit to eat. In the house where domestic violence has been held at bay, your husband is home and sitting in the arm chair reading a magazine, (Guideposts, not Playboy); the kids, healthy and happy, all gather around the turkey to hear the blessing.” Thank you lord, for our health that lets us shop; our abundance you give us to share. Thanks for giving us bread to spread on the waters, and the heart to return the love you have given us to others in need. Thanks for caring, dear Lord about all the sparrows that have fallen and giving us the opportunity to pick them up."
Look closely at the baby lying in the manager over the fireplace, if you're observant you might see a tear roll down his cheek even as he smiles.

Prov. 28:27Eccl 11:1-22 Cor 8:13-15Gal 2:10

dogs

Before I ever thought of bringing them home, male and female, I prepared a fantastic oasis for them. They would have lots of room to romp and play in a nice fenced in backyard.. They would be sheltered in the house at night, during the days I was at work and in bad weather. They would have full range of my home. I purchased the food, toys,and bedding they would require. They would not have to work, hunt for food or shelter. Every thing was safe, they would not be savaged by neighboring coyotes. They were never in danger. I read extensively about their care. Then I brought them home. I never felt I made a mistake. They showered me with love and devotion. When I came home in the evenings they greeted me with joy. No complaints. Never mind they were in the house while their friends were scavaging through the alley trash cans scattering garbage in their wake.(This sounds bad to us, but it's doggy gourmet dining.) They followed me around the house like waves behind a boat. Their eyes never left me. Whenever I looked down at them, they were looking up to me. In sickness they trusted me to have the answers. They thanked me for their health. They laid down at me feet and I scratched their backs and rubbed their bellies. We were always in sync. They could predict from my actions what would come next in their schedules. Whenever I left them they knew I would return, I would never abandon them, I would be there every night to cuddle and love them. I only had one rule, don't chew my shoes. I never put them up. Shoes were all over the house. By the back door, by the bathroom, by the dressers ect. Oh, my, I came home one day and my favorite dress shoes were newly converted sandals. I was broken hearted. They had chew toys galore, why ruin my favorite,(actually only) pair of dress foot wear? I looked all over for the culprits. They would not come out of hiding. They could hear the pain and disappointment in my voice. They were ashamed. Slowly I coaxed them out from under the bed. They had the evidence still in their teeth. They hung their heads low. Yes, I was mad. From now on they would have restrictions to my bed room. They could no longer come in unless my closet was closed with all my shoes tucked safely away. I worried about my remaining shoes. If they shredded one pair would this cascade into standard procedure. Would more shoes meet a dental demise? The bond of trust was broken. A rule was broken. I sent them outside now during the day. What else would they destroy if I allowed them free access to the house. I still loved them and cared for them but things changed slightly. They had a haunted hurt look about them. They tried desperately to make it up to me with extra works, giving me bed baths and doing comedy routines, rolling an tumbling around. I still was without my best shoes. Now I knew what God went through in the beginning. This totally reminds me of the story of Adam and Eve and how they let God down. Odd, History does repeat itself...except I'm not about to sacrifice one of my kids to make atonement, and I have more than one child. God must really have love us.

mom

If she were still here things would be different. I would walk into a clean, uncluttered house. As it is now it looks like someone picked the wooden structure up and tipped it upside down. The only evidence of dirt would be the dust that settled on the furniture, as neat as mom was she was blind to dust. I would mark certain items with my stubby finger, "Dust me." No, I wouldn't do the chore for her, she didn't work outside the home and I had lots to do,ride my bike, visit friends, roam the nieghborhood for mischief,ect. When she died dad placed her ashes (in a box of course) on his dresser. Dust layered this box almost instantly. I let it stay there as a reminder of mom's inefficiency and occassionally spelled "dust me" on her remains! It seems kind of ironic that a non duster should "become" dust!

If she were still here there wouldn't be cat food dishes by the toaster or microwave. No cats would be above floor level in her home, unless of coarse, they were in the custody of a human lap. All food dishes would be discarded when animal feeding time was over, they would not accumalate on the floors or counters. The words cats and dogs would not exist. One cat, one dog. The limit. No argument. No discussion. As it is now, three dogs and cats too numerous to tally exist in this house.

If she were still here there would be no locked doors on any room in her house. There would also be no one to lock the doors. My son and his wife would be forced to own or rent their own domicile instead of inhabiting a room with a deadbolt on it for their privacy. Plus if they wanted to continue smoking they would be led to the back door. My dad is a push over. They are there right now to keep him company and make sure he doesn't fall. Mom would see to to his safety if she were still here.. He was her world. She would safe guard him like precious metal. She never let me move in for extended times. I couldn't handle her that long any way. The two of us in one house, not a plesant sight or sound. I'd only be there long enough to get my feet back on the ground. (She would put cement in my shoes so my feet wouldn't leave the ground!!)

If she were still here Holiday meals would be on her,or at least displayed on her apron which served as a sample course. She loved to cook,even if she didn't know how. She learned rapidly after she said "I do." at the ripe age of 36, but she was a simple cook. Holiday meals never varied, the same recipes reserved for the two main holidays, X-mas and Thanksgiving. She would invite "homeless" people to join us along with all the extended family members that travelled to town. It took me years after she passed to realize I could use the same food items any time during the twelve month cycle. There were always home baked treats in the freezer that were continuously in demand, and Sunday meals were nostalgic. There was a daily menu. You knew what each day would bring to the table. She learned what she could cook and seldom deviated from it, this kept our digestive tract quiet.

If she were still here she would revolve her days around cleaning, baking and ironing. I have not seen an ironing board in 19 years, do they still manufacture them? She ironed everything, hankies, dad's boxers, the bed sheets. I think it justified her standing for hours in front of her favorite soaps (that's short for soap operas not detergent.) Nothing was left undone though because of T.V viewing,(except of coarse the afore mentioned dusting!)Bed making was first priority after breakfast,always homecooked, not warmed up pop tarts or cold cereal. Dad got up one morning to use the men's room and came back to a made bed. "I didn't know you were up." Mom said. Dad looked from her to the made bed an back again with a quizical expression. "Oh, never mind, It's time to be up anyway." She stated.

If you weren't up by 6 a.m you'd open your eyes to the underside of a bedspread and have to call for help to be excavated from your sleeping palette. If she couldn't stay in bed neither could you, she had a tight schedule and no interfering with it.( I suspect she got to take a nap every day though, but I was never able to catch her in the act because that would mean skipping school.)

If she were still here dad would never have to go anywhere by himself. She was a faithful buddy. His time was her time. She was honored to be his wife. He supported her, took her away from a lonely life, got her out of the workforce and out of her mother's home and gave her children,(well that was the down side). She would attend every doctor's visit, sports game, veteran's of foreign war meeting and social event he went too without complaining. She even enrolled them in senior citizen activities. She had anticipated retirement with great eagerness for this type of diversion. No, dad wouldn't be sitting around the house for hours on end if mom were still here. There would be places to go, things to see, people to meet.

If she were still here I'm sure dad would be eating again. He had head and neck surgury 14 years ago and has a permanent feeding tube. I bet under her supervision and relentlessness he'd have relearned to swallow safely. Mom was hard core ignorant of medical advice. She followed her own instincts. Dad would be sitting down now to three squares a day instead of liquid being poured into a stomach tube. She didn't learn to cook for nothing. She would not waste her time in the kitchen to see canned food replace her efforts!(I must admit though, the canned foods probably have more seasoning.)

Yeah,(long sigh) if she were still here things would be differnent, or at least the same as they were before she left. The main thing though would be there would be no pain at Christmas time (she went to see Jesus the day before his birthday) as we are reminded another 365 days have gone on without her. It's true, life does go on, but it doesn't go on as smoothly.

Mom, we miss you, if you were still here I wouldn't have to say that.

Where is it written

Certain things have a predictable outcome. You miss handle your body, develop
heart disease, diabetes, lung cancer, alcoholism and we don't expect you to
live long. You've abused your body with bad diets, too much sugar, nicotine and
alcohol and you pay the price to the grim reaper. But you go to school at
fifteen and, falling down a flight of stairs, you break your neck and die, this
we don't anticipate. This isn't fair. You're 90 years old and die in your sleep
tranquilly in your bed, this is a blessing, but you're 6 weeks old lying in
your crib and cease to inhale, (unfair but a painless demise) or snoozing in
the back of your parent's car and die of heat exhaustion (horrible way to go!)
because they forgot to deposit you at day care, this is out of harmony with
natural law, we don't forget our kids. A young Christian man dies at 42 with Lou
Gering’s disease, an obnoxious Satanist lives into his 90's serving Satan.
Psalm 37:1 "Fret not because of evildoers, nor be envious of the workers of
iniquity, for they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the
green herb." A plane crashes and kills all but 5 people. What made them the
lucky ones? Luke 13:2 "do you suppose that these Galileans were worse sinners
than all other Galileans, because they suffered such things? I tell you, no,
but unless you repent you will all likewise perish."

Things just happen. It's called chance, not justice, not fair, just old fashioned since-the-beginning of time, chance. People have time to prepare for the death of aging parents or
relatives with chronic illnesses, but it's a heavy blow when a kid goes to
school to get and education and is shot by a strung out peer on a thrill
seeking tour. Some things we can recover from, we can retrieve our balance,
we've had time to prepare, it was expected. But how do you regain equilibrium
when someone goes without saying goodbye. When something isn't fair. What's
fair? What book or contract promises we'll die old and "healthy". Where is it
written, please, I want to know. It must be written somewhere or people
couldn't proclaim early deaths as unfair, unjust or against nature.

People used to have lots of kids hoping that a few would live long enough to care for them
in their old age, so obviously the early termination of life isn't new. There
is no good time to die, no correct age to hang it up, just magical numbers
called by some game master in the sky. He calls your number and bingo, you're
gone. He's the only one that knows what's fair. Only he knows we don't die, that
sudden departure from here is a sudden entrance into eternity.

What's fair? It's fair we give him credit for knowing what he's doing, sure we can question
him, he allows that, but we have to place our trust in him. We are all part of
a long line of unfair circumstances going back generations too numerous to
count to the beginning of time. Was it fair that the first couple were evicted
from their home because of a lousy piece of fruit. Was it fair the first
murder victim was because of an acceptable sacrifice. Was it fair that hundreds
of people felt the water rise up over their heads while eight people floated
off on a zoological raft. Was it fair that a child died because his parents
committed adultery (David and Bathsheba) or that a mother watch her son die
spread eagle on a cross after being spit on and beaten? Was it fair that Jesus
didn't raise everyone to life that died while he was on earth, just a select
recorded few? Was it fair to God that he made us to love him and we look for
gods under rocks, rivers and valleys. We look every where but up. Life is
unpredictable. Death is predictable, we'll all die unless we're here at the
Lord's return then who gives a toot.

Treat everyone like you'll never see them again...in this life. Expect the unexpected and rejoice when it doesn't happen.

Isaiah 57:1-2 says, "The righteous perishes, and no man takes it to heart:
merciful men are taken away, while no one considers that the righteous is
taken away from evil, He shall enter into peace, they shall rest in their beds,
each one walking in his uprightness." Now, that's justice.

We're all born with life time guarantees, just no guarantee of the life time. It is written,
however, that once we shed this building (our body )all unpredictability will
vanish. That contract is sign sealed and delivered in writing. Rev 21:4 "And
God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, there shall be NO MORE DEATH,
nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain for the former things have
passed away."