It's late. And I'm breaking my "no late night blogging" rule. (I try not to blog late at night, lest my mind be overpowered by emotions... something I've found happens to my poor brain with lack of sleep.) But... IT'S NEW YEAR'S EVE! And I just so happened to find an old journal entry that applies to such an occasion.
I wrote this entry on May 21, 2011; the day the rapture was projected to occur according to one Harold Camping. It didn't. Even though this isn't exactly a New Year's entry, I think it fits.
Today is the day the world is supposed to end. At least that's what some people say. Yesterday my [internet] homepage posed a question: "Why are we so obsessed with the end times?" I think the answer can be summed up in one word: control.
We humans like to think we're in control. It's why we tame lions and drive fast. It's why we fight to hold the remote. We want an easy and predictable God, so we can fool ourselves into thinking we're in control. That's why we scour the environment to find an excuse for unexpected rain showers. We wouldn't want to give credit to a wild God.
He is, you know. Wild. In The Chronicles of Narnia, they speak of Aslan. They say "After all, he's not a tame lion." Neither is God.
I think we want to know when the world will end so that we can pretend we're the ones controlling it. Maybe we can find a man-made excuse for it. Perhaps an "inconvenient truth."
I know I'm a Christian, but there is still that feeling I get when I think about the end. It's the same feeling I get when I'm caught in a storm. It's deep in the pit of my stomach. No control. My stomach rebels with my heart. They grasp desperately for a hold, a hold that says, "I choose." But I breathe deep and remember, and there is peace. I remember He is there. This Lion of a God holds my fate, not me. He is wild, yes, but He is gracious. Oh, is He gracious.
I don't think the world will end today. Or in 2012. Or any other time a human predicts. I think God will use the end to remind us, to remind us Who is in control.
