On a weekend when some people expected to be raptured, I chose to go with my daughter and her children to Anime Central, the largest anime convention in the Midwest, held each year near Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport. It’s the type of convention that the Westboro Baptist Church likes to picket, and I expected to enjoy it as much as I have the last four or five years I’ve attended. So you might say I didn’t expect to be raptured.
And I didn’t. But not for the reasons members of the Westboro church would think. I vividly remember reading in the Bible that Jesus told his disciples even he didn’t know when the end would come. If Jesus didn’t know, how the heck could any mere human be presumptuous enough to expect he (or she) could figure it out?
So I enjoyed the convention as much as I expected. My granddaughter was one of the models in the Kaotic Kouture Japanese street fashion show, showing an ensemble she designed and constructed herself. She was adorable—as I expected. And not one of the attendees was raptured right in the middle of it.
Still, since I drove, I made sure my daughter and grandkids knew where I kept my keys, you know, just in case I broke my ankle—or something.
copyright Angela Parson Myers 2011
copyright Angela Parson Myers 2011