Disclaimer

Evidently (the evidence being in the comments here), the wicked young Master VW (son of this wild mother) went home from my energetic (I’m always energetic talking about these things) Sunday School lesson and told everybody in the world that I had said “hell” twenty three times in Sunday School class.

May I point out, in my own defense, that it’s hard talking about hell as a concept and as a scary, stinking reality if I don’t call it what the heck it is?

Huff.

I was going to stick an illustration in here – did you know you can google “pictures of h-ll”?  Might be a good move if you’re planning a vacation there any time soon.  Anyway, I’m not putting any of those up because, first of all, I don’t think any of the people who supply them have actually been there – I mean, to the actual place, although judging from their imagination, one might be tempted to think they are natives.  And second of all, they were all incredibly gross and ugly and distressing, as you might imagine.  Except don’t.  Imagine, I mean.  So I am supplying this picture instead, so that you will know by opposites when you are definitely NOT there: (Take a deep breath.  Clear your mind.  Do not mistake the over-exposure of the grass as heat, please):

Nice.  A good washing out of the soul –