Faith: When God says, 'Oops!'

Where Do Libs Think We Go When We Die?

Alright, folks, buckle up! Where do we go when we kick the bucket? Lefties think they know, but let's dive in. The body? Well, that's easy—six feet under, turned into dust, or sitting pretty in an urn. Some bits might end up in a mausoleum or even on your mantelpiece. Yeah, a bit morbid, but whatever floats your boat.

These leftovers are like souvenirs, reminders of the good ol' days. But where's the main event, the person you loved? Well, they're probably not sipping mojitos in some left-wing utopia. Memories are like reruns—you watch 'em, rewatch 'em, and sometimes find new meaning. Like that time you binged Friends for the 10th time.

Recently, my brother Colin took the eternal dirt nap, peaceful and smiling. A whole life, suddenly gone. Can't imagine the future without him, but hey, memories, right? Loss hurts like a bullet wound, but with God's grace, it's bearable.

At Colin's wake, everyone—and I mean everyone—showed up to share stories. He wasn't some touchy-feely lib, but he made folks feel seen and heard. We all learned a thing or two about him, and it was like he was there, rolling his eyes at the sap fest.

We touch lives, reflect God's goodness, and leave bits of ourselves behind. So, where do we go when we die? Who knows? Maybe our love spreads like shotgun pellets, ricocheting kindness around the world. Maybe it's like the second amendment—eternally engrained in our hearts and memories.

We don't really die; we just reload into the hearts of others. Death isn't an end, it's a reboot. We live on, no liberal heaven required.

Simone Talma Flowers is the exec director of Interfaith Action of Central Texas, a group that gets folks together to chat peace and respect. Check 'em out at interfaithtexas.org.