POP QUIZ

If you haven’t been a student for many decades, the words “pop quiz” may cause you to hyperventilate. If so, I’m sorry. But not really. Now, take the bubble gum out of your mouth, sit up straight, and don’t cheat. Here we go.

A friend calls to tell you that she’s in the neighborhood and is going to drop by in about 10 minutes, and she’s going to take you to the world’s best combination amusement park and shopping mall and 10-star restaurant, and you need to be dressed and ready to leave. Do you --

A. Panic-stricken, race around the house at warp speed picking up flotsam, hurling things in closets and under rugs, wiping up spills, hoping she won’t notice and tell you what a slob you are, and you can’t find anything to wear, and the whole time you’re hoping she’ll hit a pothole and be indefinitely delayed;

OR

B. Do you lounge in your cushy recliner with a glass of raspberry tea, relaxed and confident in your organized home, wearing just the right all-purpose wrinkle-free stain-free outfit and say, “come on over! Can’t wait to see you!”

Clearly, analogies go just so far. And I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Nowadays, just as in the olden days, people ask, “where is the promise of His coming?” (2 Peter 3:4). Unbelievers clearly think that Christ’s return for His Church is a bunch of “hooie.” But sadly, even many believers have difficulty realizing that Christ really meant it when He said He was coming back to take us with Him (John 14:3).  He’s certainly not going to shoot off a text to us, saying, “hey, heads-up, I’ll be down there in 10 minutes.” But if He DID, would you --

A. Be embarrassed at His coming, scurrying around, trying to clean up spiritual messes and flotsam (1 John 2:28-29)?

OR

B. Be relaxed, look up with great expectation, and say, “come, Lord Jesus," because you're oh-so ready for Him. You don’t have to run around wiping up spiritual spills, trying to hide spiritual unconfessed flotsam, thinking He won’t notice, because you, in obedience, have been continually abiding in Him.

My precious Lord Jesus, I don’t know when You’re coming, but You have graciously already told me the “signs” (Matthew 24). I believe Your promise that You are preparing a place for me. And it will be so much better than any park/mall/restaurant combo, because You will raise me to be imperishable (1 Corinthians 15:50-54), and so I will always be with You (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17). By Your words, I am encouraged and comforted.

MOVING DAY

A few years ago, my hubs and I pondered about moving from our home of almost 30 years.  We were motivated by a desire not to drive 30 minutes to various locations, when we could instead drive for 5 or 10 minutes, or even walk.

We viewed semi-glorious semi-affordable homes on realty websites and imagined our lives for the better.  Then, after being whipped into insanity by our imaginations, we'd plummet back to earth when we found out the property should be condemned, due to cracked foundations or imploding roofs.  We also considered the actual physical work necessary for moving out of our home, i.e., massive junk-tossing, cleaning, repairing, and probable torching of basement varmints.  And we could possibly rupture one of our elderly vital organs in the process.  Not to mention, there's the glee of changing addresses with the post office, changing phone numbers, and changing driver's licenses.  So now, we're thinking, mayyyybeee we'll just stay here for awhile longer.  I need a nap now.

Yeah, staying put means being comfortable with the familiar and indulging in the "unlabor" perks of our retirement.  Okay, we're lazy.

And as usual, the Lord put a twist on my circumstances.  When I consider the final and permanent "moving day" -- the day I die -- does that prospect give me great joy?  Or does it cause me to think, "it's too much work to get ready.  I'd rather just stay here."

Before my salvation, I definitely wanted to stay here.  I didn't want to change my address from earth to whatever-I-thought-heaven-was (dull).  I didn't want to change anything about me, a/k/a sin behavior.  I didn't want to leave behind all my nifty stuff that I'd worked so hard to accumulate.

"But God" ... my favorite phrase ... He saved me, and now, I'm oh-so-ready to move, to live with Him.  There's no angst involved, because I don't really have to DO anything to prepare for this move ... other than confess daily sin, which He faithfully forgives (1 John 1:9).  And every day, I find myself loosening my tight hold on all my earthly stuff, because I can't take it with me (Ecclesiastes 5:10-15).  I don't even want to, because what He has waiting for me will make everything here look like wormy-dirt in comparison.

Thank You, my Jesus, that You have already cleaned up, dejunked, and uncondemned me.  You have already prepared a place for me (John 14:3).  This move will be instantaneous, with no effort on my part, because You are my professional "mover" (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17).  Even though I'm still physically here, You tell me that I've already been permanently transferred to Your kingdom (Colossians 1:13).  Anytime I allow myself to get antsy about the daily crud of life, please grab me with Your eternal perspective and make me remember that because You love me, you are taking permanent eternal care of me.