If This is Rapture, Count Me In

tree and benchWriting in my usual spot next to the kitchen window just wasn’t cutting it this morning, so I took my coffee and journal outside.

When I opened the front door, I noticed the moon, still shining against the bright blue sky.

I thought it was supposed to rain all weekend, but it’s sunny and the moon’s still visible.  That’s kind of magical.

I sat down under an oak tree that seemed to be alive with the joyful sound of birdsong.  It was like every bird that hangs out around my feeder invited a few dozen friends to join the avian choir this morning.

This could feel creepy, all those birds hidden up there among the leaves, and I’ll bet some of the neighbors are grumbling about how all of that “noise” woke them up early on a Saturday, but it feels pretty magical to me.

 

I heard honking and looked up to see five geese as they flew over my house, just a few feet above the roof.

Wow, if I’d stayed indoors, I’d have heard them, but I wouldn’t have seen how close they were or how cool they looked against the cloudless sky.  Magical.

I heard the tap-tap of raindrops as wet splotches appeared on the pages of my journal.  But it was only raining under the tree.

Oh!  It’s a shower of dewdrops falling from the leaves.  Definitely magical.

The air smelled sweet.  I felt the sum’s warmth as it peeked over a nearby building.  I noticed threads of an emerging spider web as they glistened in the sunshine.  The dewdrop shower ended.  The birdsong continued.

Whoa, we’re into serious magic now.  If this is rapture, count me in.

Lots of eye-rolling and giggling characterized my responses to the buzz about today’s predicted end-of-the-world-for-all-but-the-chosen-few.

Rolled eyes at the notion that spray-painted scrawl on a mini-van would even be noticed amid slick media overload.  Giggles – OK, and a shoulder-shaking belly laugh or two – at some of the comic responses to the predictors of doom.

A Christian, I’m puzzled, offended even, at the notion that any of us could predict the end of time – to the hour, in every time zone.  I find it presumptuous to think we could, or should, be in on the Creator’s plans for the future.  I see a beautiful elegance in getting the scoop on that on a need-to-know basis, because the not-knowing helps me to strive to honor both Creator and Creation at all times.

So, thanks, rapture-mongers and rapture-satirists alike, for the reminder.  I think all of you may have played a part in leading me to a magical morning under an oak tree.

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