Are You Ready for His Return?

Are You Ready for His Return?

 

Sunday evening I slip out for some fresh air, and the Pennsylvania sky is drab – a monotone grey sheet has settled upon us, and days of sunshine will continue to be rare until the summer solstice comes with promises for better days. A few oak trees cling to weathered tawny leaves, but every line of trees surrounding the fields through which I walk are several shades greyer than the sky: grey on grey.  I feel much the same.

I crest the hill that overlooks what feels like the better part of the county, and the stubble of autumn’s corn fields rests beige against pastures quickly fading to the same shade. To the west, three silos tower like guardians of the hundreds of Holsteins speckling the fields below.

I’m numbering the Holsteins when my eyes are suddenly drawn to a phenomenon in the sky. On the western skyline, a fiery magenta oval breaks through the grey like a glowing dome.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had erected a dome tent to throw a party.  But it’s way too big for that.  My logic tells me it’s the sinking sun, but my senses tell me I’ve never encountered such a spectacle.

In an instant, I can’t find my breath. What if this is it?  What if this is how it begins?

Our six-year-old has been asking how Jesus is going to ride in on the clouds so that the whole earth can see him at one time. She contends that there’s no way people in Asia will be able to see him at the same time as those in North America see him, due to the spherical nature of the earth.

I tell her I just don’t know.

But now, on this night, I wonder, what if his coming starts as a glowing figure on a distant horizon? What if the news reporters don’t know what to make of it?  What if the world gathers to see the phenomenon, all awe-struck and wondering, and then he comes closer, and it is him?

Staring at the glowing dome, I’m suddenly terrified. This really could be it.  I let myself believe it.  And I’m terrified.  I’m terrified because I’ve never seen anything like it.  Jesus is loving, compassionate, and merciful, but we sometimes forget that he is the coming King.  He is majestic, all-powerful, demanding of all praise, and terrifying.  It will be terrifying when he comes on the clouds.  It won’t be a cartoon figure of a tender Jesus on a gentle white pony.  He will come in power and glory, and we will all fall down.

I’m terrified for other reasons as well. I’m suddenly keenly aware of every loved one whose salvation is uncertain.  I want to tell Jesus to wait, to give me one more day, and in that last day, I’ll tell them all.  I’ll beg them, and I won’t care about looking crazy.  I can’t stand going to eternity without them by my side.

If we truly believed he could return at any moment, wouldn’t we all live differently? We’d turn off our TVs, and we’d tell the people we loved about Jesus with much greater desperation.  I can’t get over these thoughts as I finish my walk, eyes ever on the glowing dome, watching for the white horse with its valiant rider.

 

About Stacey Pardoe

Stacey Pardoe is a wife, mother of two young children, writer, Bible teacher, and mentor. She is most passionate about walking closely with Christ and sharing his love with a broken world. Find out more about her at her website.

Comments

  1. Bettilu Davies says:

    Beautiful.

  2. Wow. Powerful.

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