The Wedding

 "You will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." 2 Peter 1:11

    It was dubbed "The Wedding of the Centuries," and since I was a skillful writer, I was chosen to cover the story. It was the chance of a lifetime, a most coveted opportunity, one I was beyond excited to report.

    Taking my seat among the others of the press box, I breathed a sigh of relief for having the necessary credentials for admittance to the gala of such magnanimous opulence. This regal wedding had no precedence, for no other such occasion could begin to rival the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.

    The King of kings, also known as the Great I Am and the Lion of Judah, had chosen a bride whom, we had heard, He will crown with love and compassion, replacing her raiment of ashes and despair. Every ear had heard about this, but no eye had yet seen.

    So we waited. Cameras poised. Pens in hand. Then, as the symphony of stringed instruments ebbed and flowed, the aromas of myrrh and aloes, comingled with cassia, announced His arrival. Every knee bowed as the Bridegroom, clothed in splendor and majesty, strode from His chamber, his sword girded on his side. Like the sun that rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other, nothing was deprived of His warmth.

    Jesus Christ, who had ridden forth victoriously in the cause of truth, humility and justice, had been given the place of authority at the right hand of God. The kingdom of the world had become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah, and with the scepter of justice, He shall reign forever and ever. His right hand achieved awesome deeds; sharp arrows had pierced the hearts of the King's enemies. The nations had fallen beneath His feet! His throne, where palaces were adorned with ivory, will last forever and ever. And now, in the fullness of time, with the last enemy having become His footstool, the King had come for his bride.

    Who was she, this most honored of all women? Who was this Princess, all glorious within her chamber, who had kept her lamp filled with oil and the wick trimmed while her Kinsman-Redeemer went to prepare a place for her? Rumor had it she had made herself ready; fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear. The media leaked that she had adorned herself with her jewels and her gown was interwoven with the gold of Ophir.

    From my seat in the press box, I had been writing what I was witnessing at a frenzied pace, not wanting to miss one detail of the scene, but now this pregnant pause poised my pen above paper as we all awaited the arrival of the bride.

    Behold! What was this unexpected commotion to my left? I turned to see the steward of the King coming to me with an urgent message:

    "Listen, daughter," he began, "and pay careful attention. Forget your people and your father's house. Let the King be enthralled by your beauty; honor Him, for He is your Lord." I could not believe my ears, but he continued. "Because you made peace with God through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, you have gained access by faith into this grace in which you now stand. In embroidered garments, you will be led to the King, followed by your virgin companions. You will enter the palace of the King in joy and gladness!"

    Me? I am the Bride of Christ?! It seemed incredible that this lowly reporter, seated at the very end of the press box, was worthy to occupy the seat of honor at the banquet table.

    As I rose on shaky legs, I heard the steward say, "Come!" to others that had been chosen since before the creation of the world. "Come! Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life." We, who believed in the death and resurrection of Jesus, were all the bride of Christ.

    As we shed our earthly tents, we donned the righteous robes of Christ for, without the proper attire, the King will tie that interloper hand and foot and throw him into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

    What a happy throng we made, this heavenly host arrayed in white. We joined the chorus of angels singing, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come." As we filed into the great banquet hall, God Himself dwelt among us, making sure to wipe any tears from our eyes. Those days of mourning, crying or pain had passed away.

    An angel graciously helped me find my place at the long table, heavy laden with fresh flowers and the richest of fare. Golden plates gleamed and crystal stemware sparkled by the light of the Son. My heart skipped with joy when I espied my name card at the center of the place setting. My name! Inscribed beneath were these words:

 "I have redeemed you, I have summoned you by name. You are mine."

Love, Jesus

Scriptures were drawn from: Psalm 45, Psalm 19:5, Isaiah 43:1, 54:5, 55:2, 61:10, 62:5, Matthew 22: 1-14, 25:5, John 14: 2-3, Romans 5:2, Philippians 2:10, Hebrews 10:13, Revelation 4:8, 11:15, 19:7, 21: 2-9, 22:17

    

I Remain Convinced

 "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8: 37-39

    Forty-five years ago, I was married the first time. In love, I moved fourteen hundred miles away and, at age 19 plunged into a world where I was convinced our spousal love for one another was enough, all I ever needed.

    It only took a few years for all that to be unraveled. Truth is, I'd built my house on sand.

    Had God stopped loving me, too?

    One troubled day when home alone, I opened my Bible where the Holy Spirit guided me to the crown jewel of scripture: Romans chapter eight. Here I learned what true love looks like:

"If God is for us, who can be against us?

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave Him up for us all,

how will he not also, along with Him,

graciously give us all things?"

Romans 8: 31-32

    As I read these same glorious words today, at age 64, I cried tears of joy because my life has become living proof of the truth of God's word. Let me show you:

    Has death separated me from God? When my mom died, I wondered how I would ever get past that, yet God never left my side. He soothed my ache and brought me to a place of improved confidence in my walk with Him. (Psalm 116:15)

    Has life separated me? No, nothing in life, except for my own waywardness, has built a wall between my God and me. He has even gifted me with two grandchildren. May I pass this truth on to this next generation.

    Have angels or demons driven us apart? No. I recall the frightful time I saw an evil form at the foot of my bed. When I called out to God, he banished my fear saying, "Greater is He that is in me than He that is in the world." (1 John 4:4) He delivers me from evil.

    What about the present or the future? Will God ever leave me? How can I know for sure? The Good Shepherd, who knows me by name, has promised to never let go of my hand. He has sealed me with His Holy Spirit; that is my guarantee. (Ephesians 1: 13-14)

    Should I fear the powers in the world? On 9/11 it seemed our world was coming to a violent end. I had laid prostrate on my living room floor, crying out, "God, help us!" He was in the midst of it, sending helpers to restore order, rescue others and provide comfort.

    Is there anything else in all creation that He hasn't conquered for me, His child? Since even the grave has released its bony grip when Christ arose, I need not fear the worst. To be apart from the body means I am in the arms of my Savior. (2 Corinthians 5:8)

    God has restored my home, so when all the storms of life batter against me, I remain convinced that on Christ the Solid Rock I'll stand for all eternity. He's all I've ever needed.

   

Who, Me?!

 "'So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.'" Exodus 3:10

    Years ago, my dad had a sign depicting a stern-faced Uncle Sam pointing forward declaring, "I want YOU for the U.S. Army." It was used to recruit soldiers.

    Sometimes, I think of this sign when I feel the Lord pointing at me, directing me to Go! I turn to see if He's possibly pointing at someone behind me, someone better qualified. Seeing no one there, I respond, "Who, Me?" 

    I join Moses when I say, "Who am I that I should go?" (Exodus 3:11) 

    Maybe Moses remembered the dead Egyptian whom he killed and hastily buried in the sand. Or he may have recalled the time he spoke up when two Hebrews were fighting. They adopted an attitude as they sneered at Moses saying, "Who made you ruler and judge over us?" (Exodus 2:12, 14) Then, when Moses discovered one of these men had seen him kill that Egyptian, he fled for Midian where he spent forty years trying to forget the past.

    Now God wanted him, of all people, to return!

    I'm sure Satan, our accuser, wasted no time in refreshing Moses's memory when he had tried to be "ruler and judge" on his own strength. But God had other plans. He wanted Moses.

    After Moses had exhausted all arguments before God, he obeyed the Lord. When he went forth to Egypt, God Himself went with him (Exodus 3:12). With the great I AM as his strength, an average shepherd's staff became a weapon used to demolish strongholds.

    Returning back to me, another average person with a list of sins and excuses before an immutable, omnipotent God, who am I that I should deny the request of the great I AM? What an honor it is that He should consider recruiting me in His army! 

    Of course I'll join! Like the prophet Isaiah, when he heard the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" may my hand be the first to shoot up: "Here am I. Send me!" (Isaiah 6:8) I can't wait to see what'll happen next.

"God has said, 'Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.' So, we say with confidence, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?'" Hebrews 13: 5-6

     

When Sadness Has No Face

 "Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." Psalm 42:11

    A pervasive sadness lingered near me all week. It had no face, no name, and arrived without invitation. One day, there it was. From whence it came, I do not know or I would have returned it. Its form was gloomy, a slump-shouldered shadow which shuffled a half-pace behind me everywhere I went - even into the Lord's house on Sunday. 

    With cloaked tears, I denied the lump in my throat and greeted others at church, not willing to express what had no reason, no rhyme. I rejoiced with another believer as she shared her testimony. With raised hands I sang "Victory in Jesus." After the service, the azure sky, which wore the sun like a dazzling diamond pendant, greeted me while mild breezes ruffled the maples' skirts. In robust health, I strode to my paid-for car and drove to my God-given home where larders were full.

    Why was my soul so downcast within me?

    The afternoon wore on; I kept myself busy until I decided a bike ride was in order. The gloomy form came along. Easily breezing down the street, I closed my eyes to further appreciate my strong limbs, thankful for my sense of balance, enjoying the way the wind blew my hair as birds exchanged pleasantries in branches above.

    I paused to see a white picket fence which proudly stood sentry behind an array of graceful blossoms of vivid orange and diaphanous blue. Tall blooms bearing feminine curves teased the diminutive pink stars with five perfect points, yet it was in good fun as they reveled in just being alive. Their upturned faces seemed to smile at the Creator in this mini-Eden along my way. 

    Beneath my sunglasses, the pent-up tears came unbidden when I realized what a holy moment this was, for I was standing in the Presence of God, gazing upon the beauty of the Lord. The words of my Beautiful Savior came to my downcast soul:

    "See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed as one of these." (Matthew 6: 28-29)

    If the fragile blooms, that were here for just a brief time, spent all their days in ceaseless praise, how much more shall I who was made in the image of God? I stooped to scoop the fallen orange petals, rubbing their velvety skin between my fingers in childlike wonder, and though the sadness still tagged along, it diminished in size and strength when I decided to praise the Lord anyhow, placing my hope in His pierced hands.