Suddenly Wanting His Return

Was driving today in a panic to take care of a million things, looking up at the spotty Florida sky that looked like God had painted with a clogged spray paint can. Tired, frustrated, irritated, jealous of everyone else who wasn’t me.

Suddenly imagined Jesus with his one-hundred million angels, separating the spray painted clouds and his trumpets blasting and the entire earth lit up by his lightning-and-thunder presence. If one angel has a twelve foot wing span, then that’s 11 miles of wings per one mile of sky. Imagine the sound.

It was a rush. To think at any moment the show could be over, the whole lid ripped off history and the director yelling cut. Justice finally unrolling itself in completion. Jesus here, in full glory, no more charades — his head on fire, a sword sticking out his face, stars in his hand, riding a war horse. How awesome.

Hurry, Lord. Can’t wait for the day. Until then: we fight.