The weather forecaster warned that this system would be a big one. “Remember the ice storm in Texas, February 2021, when freezing rain knocked out power for more than 4 million people for a week?” he asked rhetorically. “Well, this one could be worse,” and pointing his finger at the camera, “and it’s coming our way.”
I glanced at Lori, the weather-watcher in our family. “Did you hear that?” she asked, underscoring the impending doom.
I was busy listening to some guy on Instagram telling us that, despite previous forecasts’ warning of ice and snow that didn’t materialize, this one was “for real.” Sounding like a preacher’s appeal at the close of an old-fashioned tent revival, he closed with the admonition: “Get ready.”
He had me prepared to “walk the aisle” and make a commitment, so I sprang into action, reviewing all the tips Lori showed me on her social media app for ice storm preparation.
In a matter of hours, I dutifully reported back.
Outside faucets shut off? Check.
Snow shovel? Check.
Rock salt? Check.
Large cooler? Check
What took the most time was my 141 trips to the grocery store, because “I just remembered one more thing…”
“Didn’t I see you earlier this morning?” the clerk at the store asked, grinning.
“Yeah, I’m back again,” I sheepishly responded.
When our daughter, Madi, dropped by, I showed her my treasure trove of non-perishable groceries, battery operated lantern, flashlights, extra batteries, two bathtubs filled with water, an army of water bottles, not to mention the 20 extra cups of brewed dark roast coffee that I had on hand so I could heat them on the gas stove if electricity failed.
“So, you’re one of ‘those people,'” Madi teased.
I recoiled at my image of “those people,” the ones who stockpiled a decade’s worth of non-perishables when the year turned from 1999 to 2000.
Then, somewhere between running back and forth to the grocery store and preparing our house, I read Matthew 24 and 25 as part of my “read-through-the-Bible-in-one-year” discipline.
Remember the story? Jesus emphasizes that the Son of Man will return at an unexpected hour, comparing it to homeowners who would have stayed awake had they known when a thief was coming. Jesus then calls for his servants to be “faithful and wise,” actively carrying out their duties rather than becoming complacent while waiting.
As I read it, I thought of a quote from Billy Graham that he tried to live each day with the awareness that Jesus could return that very day. He was quoting the 18th-century evangelist, George Whitfield, who said, “I am daily waiting for the coming of the Son of God.”
Another Christian leader, G. Campbell Morgan, said: “I never lie my head on the pillow without thinking that perhaps before the morning breaks, the final morning may have dawned. I never begin my work without thinking that He may interrupt my work and begin His own.”
Thinking of Madi’s tease, I changed my mind, “I want to be one of ‘those people,’ only people like Billy Graham, or George Whitefield, or G. Campbell Morgan, who live a life prepared, anticipating the return of the Lord and that Glorious Day.”
Unlike a dreaded ice storm, which we want to avoid, the coming of Christ should prompt a glorious welcome for the Christian, an incredible upgrade, thousands of times more magnificent than a glowing sunrise warming a balmy breeze after the storm. We should look forward to Christ’s return with infinitely more excitement than we would if we were preparing for a tropical vacation after spending years slaving in a frigid labor camp.
The lights went out at our house, and the air system stopped humming as we stood in the dark. Suddenly, all was silent.
“We’re ready,” I thought.
Moments later, the lights flickered, then went dark again, and then came back on.
Later that night, thankful that I could crawl into a warm bed, I thought, “Perhaps before the morning breaks, the final morning may dawn. Christ could return. I’m ready.”
Yes, after all, I am “one of those people.”