Doesn't B.J. look alert?When we lived in Virginia, our bedroom window overlooked the street and our designated parking spaces. An armchair backed against the window and soaked up the afternoon light. It was there that Shadow waited for me to get home each day.
I saw her there every day, a familiar silhouette against the glass as I pulled into my space and climbed out of the car. By the time I made my way up the sidewalk and the flight of steps to our apartment door, she was there. She was always there, at the door, waiting for me.
She never missed a day. Whether I got off work early or worked late, she was there. She was always diligent, always eager, always happy to be greeted in turn with a quick cuddle and a handful of treats. We’ve already seen that Shadow’s preferred spot is by my side, and as close to my side as possible. Those weekday hours must have seemed long to her, stuck in our two-bedroom by herself. Even with food and water, soft pillows and numerous toys, she knew something was missing. Nothing could take the place of her human, and she waited eagerly for my return.
I often feel my endurance isn’t as long as Shadow’s. Sure, I know my Master is going to come walking through the door some day, but I’m not sure when. Until then, there are lots of balls to bat, lots of catnip to sniff and kibble to eat, and lots of soft cushions that simply beg me to take a quick catnap. Lulled by the provisions my Master has left for me, I suddenly find I’m not quite as anxious for His return as I once was.
Jesus urged a more active form of waiting, though.
“Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, like men waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks they can immediately open the door for him. It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes” (Luke 12:35-37a, NIV).
So, I shouldn’t be taking a quick nap in the corner. I, like Shadow, should be watching at the door for the love of my life to appear. Kind of like the five wise virgins in Matthew 25:1-13. Don’t remember the story? Here it is:
"At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. The wise, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep.
"At midnight the cry rang out: 'Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!'
"Then all the virgins woke up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.'
" 'No,' they replied, 'there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.'
"But while they were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived. The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut.
"Later the others also came. 'Sir! Sir!' they said. 'Open the door for us!'
"But he replied, 'I tell you the truth, I don't know you.'
"Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.”
I suppose the lesson I take from this is expectation. Even the wise virgins fell asleep, but a light sleeper can wake up quickly. A napping cat who knows her human will be there any moment can be at the door in a flash.
Christ knows every temptation we face. He knows how difficult it is to be wide-awake and diligent all the time. Still, He told these parables because He knows that what’s coming is worth waiting for. We’re not awaiting a human master, or even a human spouse. We’re not waiting in expectation for someone who could just as easily be grumpy from a bad day at work as cheerful and loving. Yes, we’re waiting for our master, but we’re waiting for so much more…the loving arms to keep us safe, the bridegroom, the heroic prince, the knight in shining armor. And when He comes,
“...he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4, NRSV)
Isn’t that a beautiful promise? Or, in the words of one of my new favorite books, “Everything sad has come untrue.”*
That’s not an event to dread; no scene from an end-of-days horror movie. It’s certainly not something to sleep through. No, that’s something to keep us waiting at the window!
*The Jesus Storybook Bible, pg 347. Sally Lloyd Jones, Zondervan, 2007.
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