the end of the world (as we know it)

Security at Heathrow was layered better than Ralphy's brother dressed for winter in “A Christmas Story.”

Lines outside, lines inside, passports constantly checked and stickered, twice frisked, twice x-rayed. Many were sick, coughing from the cold front sweeping through Europe. I even had to toss my chapstick (“gosh, my lips hurt real bad”), and predict the next security measure will be fingernail length restrictions.

As I was examined the final time, the security officer flipped through my Bible and asked, “What kind of church do you go to?” I answered, unsure of where the conversation would go. “Matthew 24,” he said, opening the Bible, “Do you know what it says?” I hesitated and tried to lean over the table to see the passage. “You don’t know your Bible?” he asked, before I could put together any decent response. (The British love speaking in question-statements).

“Jesus’ disciples asked him about the end times. Read it on the plane.” I took the Bible, glanced at the page, and knew what he was inferring. We shared a moment that required no words. We both knew that something is desperately wrong; he shouldn’t be searching little kids shoes for bombs, and I should be able to bring water on a flight.

Earlier, I saw the TIME subheadline, “What will it take to make us feel safe?” The concept of feeling safe does not make us safe at all, only the illusion of safety.

We will never be physically safe on this earth, no matter how secure we try to make it. People determined to do evil will accomplish evil. (However, I am grateful for security measures and intelligence; the bombs were set to go off the day after my flight).

As I waited to board the plane, I read through Matthew 24, with Jesus talking about nations rising against nations, “wars and rumors of wars,” and the Antichrist--and though no one knows the day or hour, I wondered if we are experiencing the “birth pains” of the beginning of the end.