Interrupted by the End of the World
Admit it, it’s okay. As a writer you know your craft requires years of, early mornings over a keyboard, and approximately 6000 gallons of coffee before you even get your first hand written rejection letter.
But as a Christian, you know that our tour of duty here on terra firma is temporary at best, often brief. And you also know–though we’re not supposed to discuss it among polite Christian company–that our Lord can return at any time, taking us home without a proper funeral, and completely clobber any hope of getting our WIP published. Even if you filed for an extension with Gabriel (or whichever angel is in charge of complaints), your request would be denied. Not even editors can delay the rapture (some may think otherwise…we’ll miss them in heaven).
So what’s a rapture-ready Christian writer to do?
You know the answer, and so do I. While the world seems to be spiraling toward the final act, we must remember our purpose for still being here. No no no…it’s not to publish a best-seller and host lavish book signing parties where you humbly accept your award for most awesome new author of the century.
Your purpose for being here–read it with me people–is to glorify God and share the gospel to anyone with an ear or, in our case, eyes.
We could hardly call ourselves Christians if we didn’t often find ourselves gazing skyward from time to time, hoping for a glimpse of an angel wing or the opening blast of a trumpet, much like a kid squinting to see snowflakes outside his window on a school night.
After all, the Lord instructed us to keep watch, didn’t He? So let’s close up those laptops, grab our Bible and a sturdy supply of Hershey Kisses, and get to watching!
Not exactly.
Christ made it clear that we were to watch as if His coming could happen at any moment. If you read Paul’s letters, he didn’t even want people to get married. There just wasn’t enough time to eat the wedding cake before the Lord’s return. And who wants to waste good cake?
The point Christ made to his disciples was this: you’ve got limited time on this earth to serve your God, so don’t waste a minute of it. If you’re called to preach, preach until you’re in the ground or getting swept up by angels on the day of rapture. If you’re called to teach, ditto.
You, my caffeinated companions, are called to write. If you publish twenty novels, earn the whopping advancements offered these days and not much more, and only one soul comes to repentance through your words, you’ve done your duty. You doubt? Make sure I’m standing nearby when that one soul greets you on your first meeting in paradise. Your toil will suddenly seem a small price to pay.
Your reward is coming, precious pilgrims. Whether it be in your old age or at the gathering of the saints, you should write as if the last word you type may be the one that finally reaches a lost soul.
Okay, go ahead and keep one eye on that oddly shaped cloud outside your window, but let’s keep those fingers moving shall we?
Come soon, Lord Jesus, but let me not waste a moment of the time you’ve give me.
