My mother is now 94 years old. She moved into the memory care unit of an assisted living facility four months ago, having been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. Visits and phone calls require careful concentration to avoid questions as simple as what she had for breakfast that morning. It’s like poking a fresh wound. “I just don’t remember, honey. It seems like that’s all I say anymore.”
That pretty much sums up our collective consciousness in regard to something called sin. Spiritual dementia. A global pandemic of spiritual dementia.
