“‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'”
“It’s one of the rules of the church nursery,” my friend with three little girls told me. “When you drop off your child, always tell them you’ll come back. And then by all means, come back! It’s the only way they’ll accept being in the nursery.”
What would it be like for us if the angel on the Mount of Olives had said, “Jesus has gone” and nothing more? What if Jesus had said “I’m going to prepare a place for you, but you’ll have to get there on your own”? I know what I would do. I would give up hope. I’d be like a child in the nursery standing alone in the middle of toys and books, staring at the door that once framed my mother. And I’d cry. Not whimpers but bawling screams of pain and panic. There are few things more frightening to a child than being left alone without hope that Mom and Dad will return. For the child, life has ended.
But Jesus is coming back, He told me so. I need not spend my days in tears or pain. I can enjoy the fellowship of others who are also expecting His return. And I can tell others about Jesus, friends who wonder why they came into this world in the first place.
He’s gone, but He’s coming back. I know. Daddy told me so. And that makes all the difference.
Lord, You’ve promised us. You promised that You’d come back for us. It’s been so long, Lord. When will it be? Please remind me often of Your promise because I need to enjoy fellowship with others of like mind, and I need to reach others who don’t know about the promise of Your return.