The Final Chapter

1 Corinthians 13:12 – For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been fully and clearly known and understood [by God]. (AMP)

The only night my father had any leisure time was on Saturday. As little girls, my sister and I would have been bathed and in our night-dresses, but before going to bed on Saturday nights, we would always sit on either side of my father in his big chair and just talk. The subject of our conversation was always the same. "Tell us about when you were a little boy, Daddy." My father would relate many stories, but the one I loved the best, and often requested, was an incident which took place when he was a very young teenager driving a team of horses across London Bridge in an air raid during World War I. My grandfather had a cartage business, and as is the usual result of wartime, boys must step up and endeavour to take the place of men, and my father very bravely did. How vividly and with great drama my father would describe the details (looking back through adult eyes with some embellishment also!): the howling of the air raid siren, the shrill whistles of the policemen urging the pedestrians to hurry off the bridge to safer locations, and the more adventurous people standing pointing up to the sky and shouting to one another. With all this noise and confusion, the horses began to become more and more jittery, their eyes looking wild and unfocused. My father, realizing the danger, held tightly to the reins, calling them by name and trying to soothe-talk them, in order to calm them. The horses did not bolt. After recalling this incident, I would always hug my father a little more tightly good night. I was too young to contemplate the possible implications of this incident. I just knew that here he was, laughing and talking and very well.

I believe that this incident has influenced my liking for fictional stories which have a happy ending. Today, as Christians, many of us have experienced or are at this very time experiencing great distress or heartbreak, and have many questions as to why, and the answers are not provided. Regardless, we have an inner assurance that the story of our lives will always have a happy ending. When the final chapter is read, we shall have the explanations, and with joy we shall accept the reasons why. To quote again Paul's words, "For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face," (KJV) — and we shall understand as we gather in the presence our heavenly Father with "joy unspeakable". (1 Peter 1:8)

Prayer: Dear heavenly Father, while we await the final chapter to be told, and when we feel the pressures of our world trying to overcome us, help us to remember that You are the Author of our story. May the gentle Holy Spirit encourage us by bringing to our remembrance a precious verse from Your Book which will calm our spirit and give us confidence to continue on. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.