I have a confession to make: I have always been terrified of Jesus coming back. Because to me, that signals the beginning of the anti Christ's reign and no one has ever been able to tell me that me that I won't be here for that.

I have no idea why I'm this way. I don't think it's a denominational thing; I don't know of anyone else who thinks this way.

All I know is, every time I watch a war movie, every time I read a book on war, or End Times, every time I think of the military, that's exactly where my mind goes.

For those of you who weren't raised on End Time culture, you probably think I'm crazy (and maybe even a lot of you who do know about it too!) Yeah. Me too.

This irrational fear also translates into a sort of fear of war in general. Especially now that I'm a mother. I remember watching Children of Men. Through the whole movie I just kept thinking, "Why on earth did I have children? Why didn't I ever think about what it would be like to be a mother in the midst of war?"

So last night at my Book Club's inaugural meeting, while the other members were talking about how certain books make them alternately feel sad or incredibly blessed to have been born here and now, my mind was going in a completely different direction.

When I stop and think about it, my first emotion usually is sadness, or maybe grief. I don't understand how people can turn a blind eye to human suffering. But then as I think about it more, I realise I do. It's like the old analogy of the frog in the pot of water. Turn the heat up slowly and he won't even realise you're boiling him alive until it's too late. That must have been what it was like in Nazi Germany. And Sudan. And Afghanistan. Surely.

And I realise that we are unique in all of history. We are wealthy. Oh I know we worry from time to time about little things, but we have Employment Insurance, we have lines of credit. Very few of us actually have to choose which family member gets to eat today. If you're reading this, chances are you have a roof over your head and clothes to wear. Access to medicine and clean water.

Very few of us, unless we consider a career in the military or a gang, ever have to think about war. We don't have to plan safe routes to the grocery store or wonder if our children will be bombed on their way to and from school.

We are blessed beyond measure.

And when I read books about war I wonder how we dare assume that life will always be like this. Even if it's not the epic battle at the end of time, the odds are not good that Canada will always be at peace.

I'm reading a book right now, The Cellist of Sarajevo. In it, two of the characters are discussing their situation. Dragan says,

"All his life he has lived under the rule of the law. If you broke the law, the police would arrest you. There was order, and it was unquestioned. Then, in the blink of an eye, it all fell apart. Like many others, Dragan waited far longer for order to be restored than was logical. He tried to go about his life as though things were still normal, as though someone was in charge. The men on the hills were a minor inconvenience that would be resolved at any moment. Sanity would prevail. But then, one day, he could no longer fool himself. This wasn't a temporary situation, a momentary glitch in the system, and no one was going to fix it."

I guess as I've gotten older, my fears have refined themselves slightly. I know that while my religious fears of battles between the Anti Christ and believers are silly (why worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will worry about itself. After all, there's enough to concern you with just today!) But I do feel as though every day that we get to live this life we've been given is a gift. An undeserved and precious gift that I wish every person on earth would get to share in.