To See the King

In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. Above it stood the seraphim: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory. And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke. Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts. (Isaiah 6:1-5)

For it befitted him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings. (Hebrews 2:10)

I go walking along the river these mornings. The banks are a tangle of dry, scraggily weeds, but in amongst them, in the oddest places, are little bunches of violets that have sprung up - bravely! - and twined themselves around the dead stalks. So in my own heart I find with a little surprise that hope – the hope of learning the Eternal Heart – has not been stifled, but grows still among the dry, snarled weeds of my own tired thoughts.

He Who Is Before All Things speaks, and though his words cut me sore, I find peace as I bow before Him from whom I am come and to whom I go. He, too, has come this way.

There is nothing wasted and no regret before Jesus. When all that I have to lose and all that I hope to gain is sifted and weighed and counted, He is dearer still. And Him I can never, never lose. My place is at His feet.