By:
M. Lucado
You
are in your car driving home. Thoughts wander to the game you want to see or
meal you want to eat, when suddenly a sound unlike any you've ever heard fills
the air. The sound is high above you. A trumpet? A choir? A choir of trumpets?
You don't know, but you want to know. So you pull over, get out of your car,
and look up.
As
you do, you see you aren't the only curious one. The roadside has become a
parking lot. Car doors are open, and people are staring at the sky. Shoppers are
racing out of the grocery store. The Little League baseball game across the
street has come to a halt. Players and parents are searching the clouds.
And
what they see, and what you see, has never before been seen.
As
if the sky were a curtain, the drapes of the atmosphere part. A brilliant light
spills onto the earth. There are no shadows. None. From whence came the light
begins to tumble a river of color-spiking crystals of every hue ever seen and a
million more never seen. Riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels.
They
pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square
inch of the sky. North. South. East. West. Thousands of silvery wings rise and
fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim
and seraphim chanting, "Holy, holy, holy."
The
final flank of angels is followed by twenty-four silver-bearded elders and a
multitude of souls who join the angels in worship. Presently the movement stops
and the trumpets are silent, leaving only the triumphant triplet: "Holy,
holy, holy." Between each word is a pause. With each word, a profound
reverence. You hear your voice join in the chorus. You don't know why you say
the words, but you know you must.
Suddenly,
the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels turn, you turn, the entire
world turns-and there he is. Jesus. Through waves of light you see the
silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the
stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens his mouth, and you are surrounded
by his declaration: "I am the Alpha and the Omega."
The
angels bow their heads. The elders remove their crowns. And before you is a
figure so consuming that you know, instantly you know: Nothing else matters.
Forget stock markets and school reports. Sales meetings and football games.
Nothing is newsworthy. All that mattered, matters no more, for Christ has come.
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