Happy faces line the hallway, those whose lives have been redeemed
Broken homes He has mended, those from prison He has freed
Little children and the aged hand in hand stand all a-glow
Who were crippled, broken, ruined, clad in garments white as snow

The King is coming, the King is coming
I just heard the trumpet sounding and soon His face I’ll see
The King is coming, the King is coming
Praise God, He’s coming for me –
William J. & Gloria Gaither

We are currently practicing this classic song in our choir. The rich imagery of the young and old, frail, weak, innocent, the communal baited breath as they/we wait for HIM – waiting for the promised reign of peace to begin; waiting for redemption of all our struggles, a filling of joy, a sorrowless time.

All I can think of as I ponder this event – the true and real second coming of Messiah, the day of atonement and healing and fulfillment for us all – is that so very little of what fills my thoughts and time, what requires my stress and energy, what makes me nervous, defensive, or offended, will matter on that day. Who liked me, who believed in me, who sought to damage my calm or my family – we’ll all  only have ourselves to give account for on that day. All I’ve done to serve God, my family, my neighbors, my enemies: that is all that will stand with me as I wait for the arrival of the King.

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