home at last

We stood years apart, yet our frail little hearts kept hoping and hoping; we pressed on on the path that promised love, peace, rest, and best of all, eternal joy. We traveled as one collective mind--with one end goal in our individual minds, though differing in age, size, race, and gender. The path was narrow, the path was hard. It was a race not against one another, but one to finish the race. Many would run, yet many would fail. It was a race full of hardships, trials, pain, and stress-- but in not one moment could there be no soothing effect to be found in the promises and sweet comforting words of the one who awaited us at the end. We learned to keep our eyes straight, to keep our feet steady, but also to look to Him as a child looks up to his father. There were treasures awaiting us, we whispered to one another excitedly. A reward. 

Our efforts were not in vain, nor were the tears and blood that stained the very ground that we walked upon. We would fall, we were told. We would experience weakness beyond imagination, yet still the sweet hands of Jesus guided us and picked us up time and time again as we fell to the ground weak and weary. Not once were we alone; He was always there. He stood and walked and talked beside us, raising our eyes and hearts to gaze and focus upon the saving work of the Cross-- the wooden cross that bridged the massive chasm that seemed endless beneath our feet. 

"I did this for you," He said, "that you may enter in. Run hard this race, dear child; my blood has been spilled for you."

Then...at last. Home. We had done it. We had finished. We had run the race. We had fought the good fight. We had run hard with endurance, raising others' hopes with the everlasting promises found in His abounding grace--for in truth, nothing we had done was in our strength. Each time we fell it was His hand that picked us up, brushing off the dirt and blemish that stained us. And at last, at long last, we had arrived. No sweeter, no more comforting, no more piercing words could have been said as we stood finally face to face with our maker:

"Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter in the joy of your master."

And finally with the multitudes of creation we fell to our knees and raised our voices as one in praise to the King, crying out, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever!" 

And so it was, then and forevermore.