The Entrance of the King

Something the Lord has been doing in me on the Race is simply telling me to write.

I never know what it looks like when I sit down with my journal or my computer, but I simply start writing.
It might sound a bit strange, but then He’ll inspire things in me.

I wrote this a couple weeks ago…and I’m getting really raw and vulnerable with you all,
because the Lord is telling me to share this with you and it scares me!

But because He said so…here goes. It’s not completed. It’s probably missing details. So please bear with me!


Entrance of the King
Tension is heavy in the air—the throne room is packed full of people of every race—each eagerly awaiting the coming of their King. The room is built like an amphitheater, so no one has a poor view. It is a large room, but intimately set. You wouldn’t know that millions of people wait here…such a huge audience, but there is a place set for everyone. No one goes unnoticed. Everyone is cared for and shown to their seats. The shuffle of shoes is heard on the floor as the latecomers slip into their seats. No one shoves or pushes or protests; the anticipation is clear. No one speaks. There is a thick silence. When will He come? What will He look like? What will He wear? Will He look at ME?

When will He come? What will He look like? What will He wear? Will He look at ME?
My heart pounds as I contemplate His entrance. The adrenaline, the hope, the joy of seeing His face surges through every fiber of my being and I can barely contain myself. I want to jump and scream and yell and flail my arms in a desperate attempt to release this feeling…oh this feeling…how I wish I could explain the depth of this love I hold for my King!

The throne sits at the end of the room—set high and gleaming in all its glory. It is placed perfectly, so every seat seems to hold the best view.  Surrounding the regal throne are 24 seats, for the Lord’s anointed. As each elder is called up by name to sit upon his chair, the applause in the room is enormous. These men have fought for the Lord. Their lives have been given tirelessly for Him. They sit in these seats of honor, and each humbly sits with eyes on the ground, unwilling to give any glory to themselves, only to the One they fight for. There’s something in each one of them that’s familiar…it’s almost as if you can feel the love their have for their King and see it tangibly coming off of them to the point where they seem to glow with joy.

He is coming.

The trumpets announce His arrival. His mighty men make a line from the large, intricately-carved wooden doors all the way to the steps that lead up to the throne. Each one is a Cherubim, set apart to fight for the King and do the bidding of their Lord. Their combat boots are one of the most noteworthy things about their dress. These men are ones I wouldn’t mess with. Their faces shine fiercely with the most perfect, divine pride. They can’t wait for the coming of their King, either.

They eagerly raise their swords, and as the double doors swing open wide, they all shout in deep unison, “All Hail the King! He is Mighty to Save, Perfect in Love, Holy Lord of All!!!!!” They yell at once, then each takes a knee and bows as the King walks past them.

He is unlike any figure I have ever known. There are many handsome and well-built men in the room, yet this One trumps them all. His finely chiseled face holds the gentlest yet boldest confidence, and His gaze is like fire. His features are regal and striking, yet simple. His eyes hold a hue of the most dazzling blue, and they sparkle with the greatest, gentlest, most powerful love. His smile is radiant. As he passes each of His mighty men, He reaches His arms to the right and the left, touching their heads in the most tender and loving of ways, as a Father would to His Son.

Every eye is on Him as He walks to the throne. He wears a thick robe of the deepest purple. His sword is the most finely crafted, and it hangs on a belt that gleams like gold against his waist.

My breath catches in my throat as He nears my seat. I’m beyond grateful in that moment to be sitting down, because my knees are shaking and my eyes well up with tears. This King is the greatest that has ever lived. He is making all things new. He vanquished evil and sent death to its own grave.

I watch His eyes scan the crowd, and I hear the gasps as He makes eye contact with every single person there. He looks at each of them individually. I know that everyone in the room feels—somehow, I don’t know how, but it’s true—that they are the only one He is looking at.

His eyes alight on my face and my heart squeezes tight in my chest. Time stops as His gaze pierces through my eyes to my very soul and heals every broken thing within me with one look. This love is overwhelming. I begin to cry as His words sweep over me with the deepest depths of comfort. I feel an ocean of grace fall on me, and my limbs tremble. I sink into my seat and know I couldn’t move for anything. His love is so far beyond the realm of my knowledge that I can’t speak, and I know it’s only by His grace that I still breathe. He is wonderful. This joy is amazing.

He continues on to climb the steps to His throne. From somewhere deep within me, a song arises, and I stand with a strength I didn’t know I had…renewed in a way that is incomprehensible. I sing, and as I begin I am joined by thousands of other voices. We praise our King with a chorus and all we can sing is “Holy, Holy, Holy.” His crown gleams like a million stars, adorned with jewels.

He doesn’t speak, nor does He have to. He is our King. He will rule for all eternity. Death is overcome. Freedom and life has won. Pain and tears are no more.

He sits on the throne forevermore. His rule is eternal. His love will never end.

His name is Jesus.


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