hurricane Ike

We’ve been hearing about Ike for months now. No, weeks. No, maybe a week and a half. Oh, whatever, it seems like forever. We’ve been informed, warned and traumatized. News coverage keeps us abreast of it’s present location, future location, damage potential, size, and wind speed. Deep in the heart of Texas we watch the broadcasts daily. We have no choice, except maybe to turn off the television but then it’s front page coverage at newsstands. Stand at the checkout of the grocery store and magazines announce Ike’s arrival. Turn on the internet and somewhere it’ll pop up. Yep. We all know about Ike.

Warnings have been issued for evacuation of areas close to the coast. Areas on the coast. Areas off the coast. Citizens have been warned that to remain in the safety of their homes is certain death. Did that make sense? A wall of water, called a storm surge, of twenty feet or more will wash over their houses and drown them. People are moving inland at rapid rates, by bus, by plane, by car, by ambulance. In a day or two they’ll be able to sail to Fort Worth that is if they survive the storm surge. They are carting up their most precious possessions, their bodies and loved ones, boarding up their windows, tucking their tail between their legs and running. The smart ones that have followed Ike’s path and listened to the advice of the weather forecasters. The ones that believed the reports that people actually died where Ike has already been.

Some people have chosen to remain at home, in Ike’s target, with a big bull’s eye on their foreheads, despite the warnings. They’re closing their eyes to reality; that nature is stronger and more unpredictable than they realize. They have nothing to fear, they’re immortal. They aren’t going to be bullied by nature. They have stored up emergency rations, put blankets under the doors to keep the water out, bought plenty of batteries for their portable TV’s and lamps and stocked up on reading materials and family games. They are going to sit it out patiently. When confronted with the reality they made a humongous mistake they will rely on compassionate people to rescue them when they find themselves trapped. They are going to let their next of kin identify them at the makeshift morgues that will be set up in a week or two at schools and gyms. When the waters recede; if they get found; if their next of kin isn’t lying beside them in another body bag.

It’s evident that not everyone responds to warnings in the same rational way. Take for example those that refuse to see the warnings of the signs of the time. We’ve been warned for centuries by God and his prophets, the biblical forecasters, that the end is coming. By men in sackcloth with picket signs announcing the end of the world, walking up and down fifth avenue. (Bad example; they may be crazy, but they’re still right). Yet we are immortal. Until we die. Then we discover the truth, that we’ve been mortally wrong.

The Bible has notified us there will be an end to what we know now. Not just a coastal calamity but a global calamity. A global cleansing. A new beginning. We’ve been warned repeatedly through pint-sized (yes, I said pint-sized) demonstrations of God’s power and wrath and given simple directions for preservation. Our only evacuation route is Jesus. Where he’s gone we can go. Some have heeded the warning and packed their belongings up and sent them a head. Their good deeds, their prayers, their faith and trust in God. Others have disregarded the warnings by closing their eyes and ears to the flashing lights predicting destruction. They say this world has been around for a long time, it will continue to be around for a long time. Well they are right, but they won’t be here, they’ll be in the lake of fire they’ve been tipped off about. There won’t be any escape routes, no rescue teams, and no emergency equipment capable of extricating them from the heat. This time there will be no one to salvage them and they will have to be accountable for their own misjudgments. Unless they heed the blinking lights, stop to read the bible, listen to the warnings and respond to the two by four that’s been thumping their heads. Thump. Thump.

Repent. Be baptized. Praise the Lord the end is just the beginning. I think I’ll paint that on a sign and parade up and down Main Street in a flour sack. That may sound like I’m crazy, but I know I’m right.

Math 16:3
Math 24:32-35
2 Peter 3:10-13