Raptured in Provence

I’m sitting here in my room at a small hotel in southern France. The sky is cloudlessly and irrepressibly blue. The thermometer is well within the comfortable zone of the upper 70s (°F). The many climbing roses are beauteous in their dew-dropped colors. Birds are singing in the trees outside my window. And yet... It’s Friday. Tomorrow the world ends.
Or so I’m told.
Based on the deeds of my life, I’m probably not going to be one of the Raptured. Although, as I’m told God chose the 3% of humanity he wants to call home to him long ago at the Beginning of Time, maybe I was in His favor back then. Nowadays, not so much, I’ll bet. Too free-wheeling. Too inattentive to Scripture. Too absent from the pews of any church.
But thankful every day for the beauty and bounty of Nature around me. Reveling in the sun and rain... and even the snow (for the first month, at least). Appreciative of the wondrous flavors and tastes of the foods and wines the good Lord saw fit to shower upon Mankind.
By this time tomorrow (local time), I should be fixed on my Fate. If you don’t hear from me again, you’ll know I made the pick. Otherwise, I’ll just continue to post these ramblings about France. And if you haven’t been raptured, I hope you’ll enjoy them.