“Then I was told:
“I am coming soon! And when I come, I will reward everyone for what they have done. I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
God will bless all who have washed their robes. They will each have the right to eat fruit from the tree that gives life, and they can enter the gates of the city. But outside the city will be dogs, witches, immoral people, murderers, idol worshippers, and everyone who loves to tell lies and do wrong.
I am Jesus! And I am the one who sent my angel to tell all of you these things for the churches. I am David’s Great Descendant, and I am also the bright morning star.’
The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come!’
Everyone who hears this should say, ‘Come!’
If you are thirsty, come! If you want life-giving water, come and take it. It’s free!
The one who has spoken these things say, ‘I am coming soon!’
So, Lord Jesus, please come soon!
I pray that the Lord Jesus will be kind to all of you.”
— Revelation 22:12-17, 21, CEV
Oh, Jesus! Please, come soon!
Come in our hearts,
in our homes,
in our schools,
in our churches,
in our neighborhoods,
in our people.
Be the bright morning star,
the one who makes it possible for us
to wash our robes and our souls and ourselves,
to wash and come forth CLEAN.
Yes, we are thirsty! We are dying of thirst, quite literally.
Will you help us to help ourselves and one another
to this water that quenches,
this water that gives life?
We wait for you all year long, all life long.
And you come in myriad ways, both small and great.
You come in humming birds and dolphins;
you come in young children and old saints;
you come in a warm smile
and a sweet word
and a strong stand for justice.
You come in the smile of a cancer patient,
the whispered hallelujahs of a dying man,
the yearning words of the poet,
and the earthy words of the prophet.
You come in the beauties of the earth
and the wonders of the heavens;
in the smell of the lilac,
the quiet of the snowfall,
the roar of the thunder,
the splendor of a sunset.
And you come in the night, squealing and squalling,
falling onto the earthen floor of an animal stall,
fragile and frightened and blinking at the lamplight,
searching for the voice you know,
the one you heard, swishing in the amniotic fluid,
hidden in the dark all those months.
You come as one of us,
to show us the way,
to lead us home.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus. Come!
amen and amen.
Merry Christmas.
Fondly,
Glenda
Thank you for posting this, Diana. It’s a special reminder of the specialness of this season. God bless you, may you bless God, and may you have a Merry (and thughtful, Christ-centered) Christmas.
Merry Christmas to you, too, dear Glenda.
Thanks for the blessings and Christmas wishes – right back at you!