There is a public perception of hell as a fiery place filled with demons or maybe just the one red guy with a trident and horns. Much is gleaned from the bible, and then embellished by our vivid imaginations. Hollywood helps fabricate some of these visions as well.
This is all well and good. What I am here to contend today is that there are many versions of a person's own personal hell here on earth. I experienced one such difficulty recently.
When we approached the place it looked nice enough. It was well lit. It was not particularly hot, and the people inside looked like regular humans. There were no cloven hooves.
Then we asked Braden to sit still and have his picture taken. That is when all "hell" broke loose. He cried. Then he decide to get up and check out the camera. You could see him thinking no I don't want to see your stupid Elmo doll. I want to play with this wonderful contraption with lights and buttons that costs more than daddy's truck.
Then he tripped and did a face plant into the camera. He cried louder.
And so it went. We danced the dance. We gave him cookies. We gave him toys. We chased him down again and again. Finally we all left and let Arica work her magic with him. Eventually we got some first birthday and Christmas pics.
Braden wins. I think these will do for a while.