WHEN CHRIST COMES - - -
by Max 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. .
by Max 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. .
