“Maybe Today.”
Two simple, thought-provoking words emblazoned on a plate my bride, Kimberly, made in a craft workshop almost twenty years ago. On the back of the plate, next to her initials is a gentle encouragement explaining the heart behind the phrase on the front. “Long for His return.”
In stark contrast, isn’t most of our anticipation in life tethered to our immediate circumstances? Don’t we all have ideas about the way we would like our lives to go, and assume every day has the possibility of being THE day that life takes a turn for the better? “Maybe today I’ll get that promotion, find my spouse, be rid of my addiction, get out of debt …”
What if our hope that today will somehow be better than yesterday is a subtle signpost pointing to hope in a day when all things will be made new?
Admittedly, there are daily circumstances we consider better or worse, but they don’t seem to make us or break us in the way we think they might when they eventually arrive. The big payoffs are nice, but not ultimate. The losses are painful, but usually not unbearable. Either way, we still face the challenge of living out our days (waiting) in the midst of a broken world at war with God.
“Waiting for what?” you ask. The end, I think.
We will all get there. Every person eventually expires. We all have a beginning, an in-between, and an end. Most people, it seems, are trying to figure out what to do with that in-between part; the waiting for the end. But few seem to give a whole lot of thought to the end – and what comes next – until it barges in.
Wouldn’t we all live differently if we did so with the end in mind? Moses prayed to God, “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12, ESV) There is something powerful about putting our daily choices to the test of eternity.
Unfortunately, we are all too often captivated with immediate acquisitions. Our fixation on the meager fruit of today robs us of the harvest that would be ours in the future if we would simply fix our gaze on the finish line. It is there we can see what truly matters, and orient our life accordingly.
None of the books in our Bible paint a more vivid and comprehensive picture of that finish line than Revelation. Its express purpose is to pull back the curtain on a future we will all enter and experience one way or another. Admittedly, the picture is wild, spectacular, and the source of endless debate around details I’m not sure anyone can know with certainty. What we can know is that Jesus will return just as he promised, and he will triumph over all that's broken in this sin-wrecked world.
With that knowledge, we are equipped and encouraged to wait well until all that we find in the book of Revelation comes to pass. First century Christians received this letter amid horrific persecution. We don’t face the same circumstances in our context, but we are no less tempted than they were to lose heart. Their’s was the test of poverty; ours is the test of prosperity.
Throughout December, in this season of Advent, we’re going to spend some time in the first three chapters of John’s letter to the seven churches (Revelation 1:4). In chapters two and three, John records a specific message to each of the seven churches listed. Woven throughout those messages are commendations, corrections, and assurances, all intended to bolster God’s people as they wait for his return.
I truly want to be a man who waits well, regardless of what I’m waiting for. I have a hunch that I’d do much better with the small, short-term items if I remained lasered on the long-term destination. That’s the gist of the plate. Maybe Today …
Embedded in that crisp phrase is a sense of readiness. It is a statement brimming with hope, expectation, and anticipation, anchored in past assurances. It is a reminder that a glorious end is coming with our Savior, and our knowledge of that reality is to shape our priorities in the here and now.
I look forward to embarking on our Advent journey together this Sunday.
Longing for His return,
Monty