DECATUR — I will admit to suffering from a bit of depression lately - and not just because my poetry didn’t go over well. Mrs. Griz can attest to the fact that I’ve let things get me down. She keeps telling me to get over it, but that’s hard to do.

Why would I be a bit depressed? And why isn’t it going away? Perhaps it’s because I have been reading the writing on the wall which most folks - it seems - haven’t even seen.

King Solomon, the wisest earthly king who ever lived, once wrote: “For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow” (Ecclesiastes 1:18).

I certainly don’t claim any superabundance of wisdom, but I’ve learned some things from the wise and it makes me sad. Why?Because I know the end of folly.

Before you think I’m rambling like a fool, I’ll get to the point.

It saddens me to see the direction of our nation, its people and many people near and dear to me because I know the end result of their path and way of life. It leads to ruin and much worse! And it seems to matter little how much and how long a few remind them of the truth, because they don’t see it and don’t accept it.

Most Americans think our nation is invincible and eternal. Many have even incorporated our nation into their religion as though America is somehow the new chosen nation and people of God and will never fall. How foolish!

We have become an immoral nation. We even oppose morals and personal responsibility. We kill our children and pretend to be defenders of human rights. We proclaim freedom, but that freedom has been turned into a license for bondage in immorality. Read Romans 1 and Leviticus 18 and consider.

A question in my mind of late is this: What nation and government has ever fallen to the level of immorality and depravity as our own and survived? I can’t think of any. Can you? Nations and rulers have fallen, and people have been ... well, you can read it for yourself if you study history and consider.

But no one considers it or takes it to heart. We elect new rulers from one party and then another, but the path remains the same. We’re on a path of ruin, and I doubt things will be pretty. Could our rulers and their blindness to the truth be a part of our judgment? Think about it.

Perhaps things will hold together a little longer, though I don’t see how theycan with all the folly - if it weren’t so sad, I’d laugh at the foolishness of so much we do as a nation. Perhaps my generation will be gone before everything falls apart, but I feel for my children and grandchildren? Will they have to pay the price for the folly of my generation? That’s a depressing thought.

My only comfort in all of this comes from another ancient verse and the truth it proclaims: “The LORD reigneth; let the earth rejoice...” (Psalm 97:1). Even though things look gloomy for our nation if it does not repent, I know who is in charge of all and His ways are always right. I take comfort in that.

Truck-driving Poetry

On a lighter and less-depressing note, yes, I did receive one response to my truck-driving poetry - from weekly column writer Annette Rowe - which I reprint below.

You’ve always been kind, Never criticized my lines,So I won’t say much, About your poetry and such.

The ideas are good, But I think you should... Uh...What can I say?

Just keep the job you have in the day.

Since I know of no poets who make their living at it, I expect I will keep my day job. And based on Annette’s review, I may not try to join any poet’s societies even if they would let me in for a small annual fee and publish my poems if I buy enough of their poetry books.

I could try and start a truck-driver’s poetry society and accept memberships from poetic truck drivers - for a fee, of course - to publish their poetry online providing it had not already been published anywhere on a restroom wall.

But to be honest with you, I haven’t written any poetry since I last climbed down from a truck and that’s been quite a few years back now. That doesn’t mean truck driving isn’t in my blood any more. Istill drool when I see a long-nosed Pete or Freightshaker (for those of you who are not truck drivers, that would be an old-style conventional Peterbilt or Freightliner). I miss the sound of 18 wheels on the highway and the whine of a Cummins engine, but then I remind myself how little I miss sitting in truck stops and using truck-stop showers and restrooms and how little I miss hurrying from point A to point B only to wait long enough to get unloaded that I could have spent an extra day at home before heading off to point C.

Anyway, since I’m not driving, I haven’t been writing any more poetry. So, all of you who read my columns can breathe a sigh of relief. No more poetry from me - at least for as far as I can see!

Randy Moll is the managing editor of the Decatur Herald and the Gentry Courier-Journal. He may be reached by e-mail at randym @ nwanews .com

Opinion, Pages 5 on 02/10/2010