Getting Ready For Winter

It's coming.

It's a perfect late-September day. The sun is shining gloriously outside my windows, and the breeze that is dancing in the branches of the trees is soft and warm. A monarch butterfly is winging its way to Mexico past my office windows. The maple tree is showing the merest hint of the glory of colour that awaits it. The students walking past my office windows are wearing shorts and t-shirts and sandals. Everything is warm and free and beautiful.

It's hard to imagine that in mere weeks, the scene could look very different.

But winter is coming. It's coming, with its days of cold drizzle, deep freezes, slush and mush and muck, mountains of snow to shovel, bitter winds, and thin sunshine that fails to warm anything in its stretched rays.

It's coming.

It's a perfect late-September day. I got up this morning in freedom. I got into my car, and turned on the Christian radio station. I drove to my Bible-college career. I am surrounded by the murmur of soft voices in various classrooms in which the Word of God is being lifted up and studied with joy. It's the beginning of a new semester in a new year, and there is a palpable air of excitement and joy. Everything is warm and free and beautiful.

But when I look carefully, I see signs that winter is coming.

Here, a clerk put into a position where she is forced to choose against her conscience or go to prison.
There, a bus driver who is chastised for refusing to drive a bus painted in a rainbow of colours.
Here, a Christian elementary school being brought before the courts for holding on to a biblical definition of marriage.
There, a Christian university losing accreditation for the same reason.
Here, the comment sections of newspapers being filled more and more with raging anti-religious sentiment (regardless of religion).
There, a politician saying that evangelical Christians are un-Canadian because they hold to a biblical definition of marriage.
Here and there and spreading fast, the threat of religious fundamentalists pledging to spread their influence throughout the world.

It's no surprise, really. We've been told it's coming. But I wonder if I'm ready. What I hear right now are rumours, murmurings, rustlings, grumblings. Nothing too near. It's still easy to push the noise away. The breeze is not so chill yet that it bites me personally. The world of Marianne is still warm and free and beautiful.

But it's coming.

And I wonder if I'm ready.

I feel soft. I feel addicted to my comforts. I am so used to living in a land where I am free to worship how I want, when I want, with whom I want that I can hardly imagine a life where that freedom is stripped away. I can't imagine my school being forced to shut down by one group or another. I can hardly stand to think that Christians may be told that they can no longer broadcast on the airways of our country. And that's only the beginning.

We are told that if we can't "do the job" we shouldn't take the job. So a Christian can't be a city clerk because that job requires her to dispense marriage certificates that she doesn't feel she can do in good conscience.
A Christian can't be a city bus driver because that job may require him to drive a rainbow-coloured bus.
A Christian can't be a politician in certain parties, because he or she is required to be pro-choice to do so.
A Christian can't be a doctor, because he or she is required to either perform or refer people for abortions and euthanasia, even though he or she believes that makes him or her an accessory to murder.
Apparently, a Christian can't even be Canadian.

It's coming. I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I can be that brave. I want to be. I'm not talking about loud-mouthed, fighting-back, foaming-at-the-mouth, God-hates-gays militant fundamentalist bravery. I know I could fight. Becoming the loudmouthed fighter would be easy. It would be easy to get angry at those who would steal my freedoms. It would be natural to hate my enemies. It would feel so good to slam the secular-humanist world that is slowly squeezing away my freedoms. All those traits linger dangerously close to the surface in my ugly, sinful human heart.

But am I ready to stand, as Jesus did, silent before my accusers, without fighting back? Am I ready to love my enemies and pray for those who persecute me? It's easy to talk about that when no one is persecuting me, when my only enemies are those who slip into the parking spot ahead of me even though I've got my signal light on. But it's coming. And I don't think I'm ready.

I want to be ready. I want to stand firm in opposition. I want to stand with grace and love before those who hate me because of what I believe. I want to not be surprised or offended at the afflictions I face because of Jesus, but to rejoice that I am counted worthy to suffer for him.

But oh, that requires courage. That requires a level of courage and confidence in Him I know I have never approached.

It is a gloriously warm, sunshiny fall day today, but a wise person reads the signs, and knows that winter is coming, and uses days like today to prepare for the coming cold. It is the fool who ignores the signs and continues to play as though summer will last forever, only to be shocked and dismayed when winter hits.

I have today. I have today to live faithfully and graciously, to walk humbly with my God. I have today to ask him to change my timid and lazy heart, to fill me with courage. I have today to pray for the enemies I know are coming, not for my sake, so that I can maintain my life of ease, but because they so desperately need Jesus.

And then I will trust that when winter hits, I will be ready.