Those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. “I, even I, am he who comforts you.” Isa. 51:11-12
Heavenly Father, we adore you for the hope these promises bring us this Saturday. Through Jesus, we’re already ransomed, redeemed, and rescued. We’ve been delivered from sin, freed from condemnation, and hidden in Christ. And now we live in your exuberant welcome and eternal embrace. Hallelujah!
All our captivities are broken in Jesus—the ones we’ve generated, the ones we’ve inherited, and those brought upon us by others. No imprisonment, no bondage, no stronghold will keep us from arriving safely home in the new heaven and new earth.
Indeed, Lord Jesus, you are our promised Jubilee—our eternal year of the Lord’s favor. Though we’ll only fully enjoy this freedom when you return, it’s no less legally ours right now. The saints in heaven are more happy, healthier, and “holy-er” than us, but they’re not more loved, wanted, and secure. They’re more aware of your beauty and sovereignty, but they’re not greater beneficiaries of these riches than we presently are.
Our imagination goes into overload mode, when we try to picture what it’s going to be like when we, your Bride, are “crowned with everlasting joy.” We know what it feels like to be overtaken by guilt and shame, fear and stress, sadness and weariness; but what’s is going to be like to be overtaken, and taken over, by unfettered gladness and your joy?
Jesus, we cannot wait to experience the blessed Day when all sorrow and sighing, brokenness and badness, dying and death will flee away forever. Hasten that Day; hasten that Day of consummate gladness. You comfort us like no one else can. Forgive us for foolishly seeking our consolation in anyone or by anything else. So very Amen we pray in your matchless and magnificent name.
