If the world ends this year, or I am taken out of it, what would happen to my girls? To my son? To my mom? Death comes to us all, and I long for a world that is good. I long for a world in which I am good, and where evil had no place. Yet I fear abandoning my loved ones to a life of loneliness, terror, torture, despair. I fear abandoning my loved ones to a life or eternity of hell. This is not what I want for them.
For not knowing God, is that the life they deserve? It is the life I deserve, and it causes me to tremble. Yet by grace I am saved, and I pray that grace to cover them, too. This life may become so much worse than the pain I have known, and I am very afraid; for there is no promise I will be spared such things. I have no illusions that I should be spared when millions before and many beside me were not.
Yet this hope remains: that however this ends, and whatever I experience, my eternal future is secure in him that gave his life that I might be welcomed home.
How should I be awarded this surety when others were denied? Am I more righteous than any of them? Truly I know that I am not. I am saved because I believed the one who saved me. Saved. By grace and grace alone. And I long for the same for a world hurting, and dying, and lost.
If I had the words, I would shout it from the mountaintop. Yet the words that tumble from my mouth are rarely understood, and frequently cause offence.
So I whisper it quietly with tears pouring down my face: “Lord, please save them too.” For if God could love me through all of my sin, shame, and failure, I am fully convinced that there is nothing another has said, or done, or failed at that would deny God’s love to them… if only they would believe.
So I pray again, “Lord soften their unbelieving hearts, teach them of your love, and save them.”
And Lord? Please come quickly.