Reflections on God's travel guide to my journey back home.

Monday, December 21, 2015

childhood fears

There's a fear I had as a child that I never really got rid of: Jesus comes, and I'm either doing something I shouldn't be or something completely frivolous. All the good kids who are reading their Bibles or singing hymns or busy helping Mom get to go to heaven, but because I'm down at the park instead of cleaning my room, I get left behind.

If only, I would think, there was some way to know, some early warning so that I would have maybe a day or two to get my act together. It's why I hated the parable of the ten virgins. Remember, the foolish ones had to run and buy oil, and then found the door locked when they got back? And then (Matt. 25:11-13) they shouted " 'Lord, Lord, open the door for us! ' But he replied, 'Truly I tell you, I don't know you. ' Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour."

Two things I struggled with as a child about waiting for Jesus. First, it takes so long! You can't stay ready forever. It's like getting dressed in your church clothes and then sent outside until Mom and Dad are ready to leave; after a few minutes of walking in circles, you just have to get on the rope swing.

And second, sometimes I don't want Jesus to come just yet. There's a lot of good stuff that I haven't done. And maybe a little bad stuff I'm not ready to leave behind.

Like I said, I'm not really past it yet, even at a point where my kids think I'm old and there are little people who call me grandpa. So, once again, part of my Advent prayer is this: "Lord Jesus, help me to long for your coming."

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