HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, February 4, 2026 – There was a guy, a few weeks before Christmas, who was slumped in an old manual wheelchair at what is probably the coldest, windiest, and busiest intersection in Halifax. That day it was also snowing. But the old man didn’t seem to notice the snow, or if he did, didn’t care. He was on a mission. He was crying over and over again “Jesus is coming!”, and he’d obviously cried it so many times by the time I’d arrived, his voice was a croak. And yet despite the cold and the wind and vocal cords strained to breaking, the man didn’t abort his mission. He continued to preach. In response, the throngs of people hurrying by didn’t so much as lift their eyes from their phones. To them, he wasn’t there.

I stopped for a minute to listen to him. He was elderly and gaunt and looked ill. He also wasn’t dressed for the cold. I thought at first he was just another panhandler like the dozens of panhandlers plying their trade along that busy strip, but I didn’t see a cup or upended hat near him. He wasn’t begging. He was giving rather than taking.

Nearly two months later, I can still see him in his wheelchair with the snow and crowds swirling around him. I can still hear his voice. He hasn’t been back to that corner since, or at least I haven’t seen him. Maybe he’s moved on to another intersection elsewhere in the city, or maybe that was the only time he’d preached. Maybe some force drove him out into the bitter cold and wind that day to cry those few words over and over, some force that he didn’t quite understand and yet obeyed. I’m glad he did.

Because even though he isn’t there, I still see him. I still hear him. His simple message still rings in my head loud and clear: “JESUS IS COMING!” And whether Jesus comes today or tomorrow or in another 2000 years, he is coming. That is a guarantee. And whether we receive his coming with joy or with shame – well, that’s the whole point of the old man’s message.