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Late have I loved you, O beauty so ancient and so new. Late have I loved you! You were within me while I have gone outside to seek you. Unlovely myself, I rushed toward all those lovely things you had made. And always you were with me, and I was not with you.
Saint Augustine

Saint Augustine, Confessions Of Saint Augustine, Book X, Ch. XXVI, in public domain.




Advent 1
Matthew 24:36-44

Not Left Behind

Nancy Nichols

But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the Angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. (v. 36)


I grew up in a family and church well centered in the Age of Reason; thoughts and ideas gave validity to human experience. My faith was well reasoned. It was historically based. It was habitual. I longed for more.

When I was in high school, a faith group based on charismatic and apocalyptic faith experiences came to the area. The "cool" kids joined in and so did many of my friends, which made them cool as well. While I could not agree with them rationally, I found myself drawn to the emotional expression of their faith and the acceptance by peers who would once have ignored me. I still attended my United Methodist church, but I was certainly willing to explore something more.

On New Year's Eve, 1975, this group of friends gathered together. We went to an Assembly of God worship service that focused on the coming of the end. They believed that 1976 would bring the parousia, the rapture, the end, the second coming. I left the church thinking, I'm only seventeen. There is way too much of life left for me to experience. I don't want this yet! After leaving the church, we spent the night at Jill's house. We stayed up talking about all we had heard. My friends were convinced that this was indeed the year. I wasn't so sure.

I went home the next morning, New Year's Day, 1976. I decided that I needed to read Revelation. So I started reading the most complex book in the biblical record, on no sleep, with a heart filled with fear! I made it about half way through before I fell into a troubled sleep.

The house I grew up in was old and creaky. The steam heat made loud noises, the floorboards creaked, and the tree limbs just outside the windows rubbed together, making strange noises. Usually those sounds were the sounds of comfort. But on January 1, 1976, every noise that invaded my sleep brought fear. I was sure that each creak was the trumpet prelude to a mass rapture that would leave me behind to face enemy forces!

Then it happened. I had a dream. I had THE dream. In my dream, Jesus descended halfway, looked straight at me, and said, "Nancy, I love you, go back to sleep, don't worry, I'm not coming for a very long time, and I won't leave you behind." I fell into a deep sleep, and woke, refreshed.

Looking back, I realized that the dream was not just about the end of times, but about all of those times when I felt that Jesus was leaving me behind. That dream prepared me to face losing my mother just fifteen months later. That dream prepared me to move from being an adolescent to an adult. That dream allowed me to answer, finally, the call to ministry I first heard when I was twelve. That dream stayed with me during the dark nights of the soul when I could not find God. That dream is part of my faith. "Nancy, I love you, go back to sleep."