Fullness

The snow is flying outside. I'm home early from work and the house is quiet. No dog to greet meet, wagging her tail, helpless with happiness. You can hear the plows passing in the street outside. I love this sweet world, and I know it makes no sense. When we were at the vet's the other night, they took Clementine away for a few minutes to insert the IV in her leg. We waited in silence, feeling uncomfortable. The TV was on in the lobby, and the news was about kidnappers stealing young tsunami victims, even from their hospital beds, for the purpose of enslavement. I should write the words again, and you should repeat them slowly: "for the purpose of enslavement." This is happening now, in our world.

I have been part of many gatherings lately. Gatherings to mourn, gatherings to worship, gatherings to share and pray, to talk, to cry, to sing, to send off. In all these gatherings I have had the sense that now, just now, is the opportune time, the time of fullness, of ripeness, of harvest. The devil is abroad, and desperately seeking whom he may devour. "Be very careful how you live--not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." So let your yes be truly yes, and your no be once and for all no. I love this sweet world, but nevertheless, come quickly, Lord Jesus.