The Endurance of Burnt Toast

The other day a friend turned to me and said, “Holls… Jesus is actually coming back.” We were sitting on a giant cement block of a World War memorial looking over the Kansas City skyline. I had never been there before this night and I sat staring at the lights that illuminated the night sky. The cars moved, the sound of a train’s horn bounced between the tall buildings and people, each with a story, walked through the winding streets. And so we sat for three hours covering almost every stereotypical conversation that usually occurs when looking out over a city of lights. We were discussing how we sometimes cling to the very things that suck us dry. And in that moment, oh in that sticky mess, how we so badly just want our hearts to align with the logic of our minds. It is at precisely that moment where she mentioned His second coming.

Everything in this life is unto that day where Jesus rolls back the skies and comes for His bride. I feel so often that part in the story becomes a footnote put aside for a later time. It becomes this ethereal thing that each generation lazily and carelessly hands the responsibility over to their children and children’s children. But that only makes us ignorant. The Day the Lord returns should be the center of our life focus always. It should be the one event we prepare for more than any other. Our society is so mesmerized by the accomplishments of the flesh that we often miss the true meaning of life. We cling to comfort. We search for easy living, a day-to-day walk that doesn’t make us too tired or stressed. happiness thought to be found in luxury and accomplishment; the more zeros in our bank account total makes us better than another with one less. But in reality, making our first love a career or house or even a fancy car is nothing in comparison to knowing the Lord. Jesus isn’t going to come back one day and wonder what the interior of our car looks like; His priority is what our heart is focused on.  That must be our goal—our end. We must walk daily towards the truth that He really is coming back.

I sit here in this prayer room and I am hit with the terrifying truth that I now live in Missouri. For the past week I have had random freak out moments that cause me to pause and shout, what the heck have I just done! They have come when I am waiting for the officer to write me my speeding ticket, when I’ve burnt rice twice and once again have to settle with toast (that also burns), when I use a 50 cent fork to cook entire dinners. It is those moments when my closest friends leave and I am left alone in a house that is 85 degrees and infested with demon-possessed crickets that defy the death trap of a lawn mower where I wonder how I landed here. Why I ever chose to leave the sweet bliss of my hometown. But it is also in this prayer room that I find my answer. As we sing, "for from you are all things and to you are all things” I am reminded why I came. I am living to prepare for a wedding that will be my gateway into eternity. These sweet moments in a prayer room I’ve spent so much time in causes my heart to yearn for more of Him. Nothing else matters when we are exposed to the love He has for us to be with Him where He is.

My friend is right. Her heart is focused on our upward calling as the inheritance of Jesus. In the midst of trial and tribulation she turns to Her father, to the One she moved here for. She is an intercessor fighting to know who our God is. She defies the world’s lies of comfort and instead gazes upon the beauty of a Man who is actually going to come to us. We don’t come here for easy living, but for a meaningful chase after Jesus. He is coming back. He wants to marry His bride. He wants to bring us perfect love. That truth makes everything else manageable.  When I’ve killed my 7^th spider for the evening and my prayer room walk home buddy is 4408 miles away and all that I’ve known in the last 6 months is gone,  I can find comfort in His unchangeable being. I can look back at His face and know He has not left. I continually return to the basics, the milk and honey, and answer the simple redundant question: why am I here? In a place that has no need for indoor steam rooms I have come for only one thing: to know the One who has stolen my heart and to prepare for a wedding feast that is promised to occur. He is my reason. His 2^nd coming is why I endure the taste of burnt toast. He has stolen my heart. Against all opposition, all laziness, any movement that occurs around me, I will run to my Bridegroom because one day there will be a wedding and I want to be dressed accordingly.