Time to leave Sodom?

Evidently, John MacArthur's blog has asked a question about living in our rhetorical "Sodom."  Others ask at what point do we leave?  Along the same lines, a woman at church noted that she'd seen something on TV about people heading for the hills in Nevada to escape the coming fallout of our nation's choices.

My take is very simple; as one who lives currently in the hinterlands (a town of 9000 surrounded by corn and soybean fields), I wonder where one would go.  Here in a town we can call "good earth" (what the town's name means in the Dakota language), I've seen more single moms than I can shake a stick at, more tattoos than in a Yakuza convention, enough bars to keep a crowd of Vikings fans happy, and far too many of them persuaded that their infant sprinkling keeps them safe for the final judgement.  You see a fair number of people obviously on meth, and I've also become fairly good at spotting small stands of marijuana in cornfields.  Yes, I'd still pass a drug test.  :^)

As someone who loves small towns and farmland, it's what I've seen everywhere.  And so my response to "how to escape Sodom" is that, apart from egregious examples like Washington DC, one does not leave Sodom by changing one's mailing address.   One leaves Sodom by leaving worldliness behind, and a great place to start is by turning off the TV.