I think we're getting to the point where everyone's getting fat and everyone's getting allergic, or claims to be allergic to something and people can't walk from their front door to their car without a bottle of water in their hand because they have to hydrate every three and half steps.
I do not recognize the right of the public to break in the front door of a man's private life in order to satisfy the gaze of the curious... I do not think it right to dissect living men even for the advancement of science. So far as I am concerned, I prefer a post mortem examination to vivisection without anaesthetics.
I come from Beverley in East Yorkshire, and no one there would step outside their front door, or even their back door, on a Saturday night - or any other time, for that matter - unless they were dressed to the nines.
I actually fall asleep really easily. I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat, though, I have to make sure that all the doors are closed, the front door is locked three times, and then make sure everything is covered and look under the bed.
We operate in a world where you can have a package from Amazon arrive on your doorstep the same day; where Uber has a private driver at your front door within minutes; but when it comes to Congress, it takes three weeks for someone to get a form letter response to his or her questions.
Other writers tell me about these bushel baskets delivered at the front door. If I've gotten 50 letters over the last 18 years, I'd be surprised.
Think about the comfortable feeling you have as you open your front door. That's but a hint of what we'll feel some day on arriving at the place our Father has lovingly and personally prepared for us in heaven. We will finally - and permanently - be 'at home' in a way that defies description.