Monthly Archives: June 2020

The Practical Use of Eschatology

I used to be a super eschatology buff.   Listened to a ton of Chuck Missler back when he was still with us.   Had a bloggy group around a gal who was following all the signs that “He was coming soon”.    Good fun.  I learned a lot of Scripture.   Missler was right – if you really get seriously into your eschatology, you *have* to learn the rest of the Bible.   There is no harm in debating points of Scripture with like minded folks.  Wholesome, really.

But eventually I said, “Okay.  You’ve convinced me.  The days are short.  So.  What do I want to do with the time which remains?”

Let’s take the example of a castle.   The castle is Christendom.   Up on the top of the highest tower sits a lookout.   He starts to see dust in the distance.  The Master is coming home!   It’s an overcast, dingy kind of day, and the lookout can’t get a fix on how far the Master is from home, or how fast He’s coming.  Just – He’s coming.

Everyone in the castle serves the Master, and everyone has been given their job.   So.  You’ve heard the Master is on His way.   What are you doing?  What do you want to be FOUND doing, when He gets in the door?   What do you want the area of your responsibility to look like?   For me, the answer is simple.   I want to be found with busy hands and the arena of work He’s given me in the best shape I can get it in.

Inexplicably, a lot of folks decide to stand at the foot of the lookout tower and yell for updates and not work.   I don’t get that.  I ACCEPT that He’s on His way.   I HAVE things to be doing.  If He takes His time, that means I get more work done.   If He runs quickly, at least He won’t find me napping.

Of course I want to hear the updates as they come.   But my job is not lookout.   My job is not to gossip about the lookout’s news, as much as it interests me.   My job is in front of me.

And there is plenty of work to be done.

What I really really want…

Preface.  I didn’t think I’d ever write this publicly.   I was commenting over at E’s place and… now is the time.   It’s a lot more naked than I customarily get on this blog.


What are dreams made of?   For me, dreams are made of beauty and goodness and truth – and purpose.

I want what I have wanted for years – a place in the country.   Somewhere I can have my friends over for ages if they like.   Somewhere I can grow my food and chase rainbows and dance outside my front door without alarming my neighbors.   Without seeing my neighbors, please.  (One of my least favorite things is that exiting my home makes instantly visible – even in my backyard.  Heck.  Even in my patio, if my neighbor is on the hill.  Those of you private people are shuddering with me, yes?  I had a neighbor once that I realized could see *into my home* and was watching me my nurse my daughter on my couch *in my living room*  -justugh-)  I want to do proper preps.  I know *how* to do most of this stuff, and what I don’t know, my husband seems to (I don’t know how he know, he just does.  ‘Tis a mystery.  What neither of us know, my farm-girl mom has done).

I ache to spend my days working with my hands and my heart.   Once upon a time, my husband and I did a lot of hospitality.   Our home was a home for broken hearts, a place of peace and safety and love.  It got to be a bit of a joke between the two of us, but we loved it.   I want friends to visit and stay with me.   I want to feed them.  Feeding people I love is very nearly the Prime Directive.   Loving them as they heal is one of the things I have been for.  I don’t know if it still is, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.    I *enjoy* loving people.   That is definitely a thing I am for.    Healing people might be.   (No I don’t have the gift of healing, yes, I’ve pursued that).

I want room to have an extra house on the property for my folks to live.  I’m an only.  They’re in their late 70s.  I’d like them nice and close and convenient to keep an eye on.   My grandpa had dementia.  I learned a lot of anti-lessons, and I have some very strong preferences here.

My husband is brilliant with his hands and loves to fix stuff.  I’d love to see him have all the room he needs to spread out and fiddle to his heart’s content.  To see him pursue his real interests.   I want to see what’s in his imagination, hidden by all this concrete.  I want to see him in a job where he’s properly appreciated.   I want to see him stretch his wings and fly.   See him play.   Grow things together.   That would be a goodness.

I’d like to see my kids fledge somewhere they could start their lives close to home.   Grandbabies someday would be a goodness.

I have some things to say in writing.  That would be nice, to feel like I made a difference in the wider world.   I’ve done rather a lot of research.  It would be good to get a few books out in the universe… and it would be Much Better to have proper work that I do, a way to contribute financially and bear some of that load.   Imagine, if I lived somewhere it snowed, I might have to stay out of the garden and be at the keyboard for a few months/year.  And at my sewing machine.    I’m well suited to shifting my pursuits seasonally, it keeps me focused.   I found out that I’m pretty decent at public speaking and not in the least afraid.   I would like to use that.

I would like to do the things I am good at, the things that I love.   I enjoy working for purpose.

I want to spread beauty and love and God.

When God wills, dreams will come true.