Yes, I know it’s not Friday. But it is Ascension Day.
This is an old post, but this morning when I woke very early, I just knew I wanted to post it again for the joy of it – and the lump in my throat and the tears in my eyes that reading it always produces.
It is a poem I wrote one year when life was hard – and it took me ten minutes to write down the words. God speaks to me every time I read it.
I pray He may speak to you too and that it may bring you a sense of the glorious wonder of this event on this Ascension Day, 2018.
The halls of heaven were silent.
Barely breathing, the saints,
Some newly arrived, some old hands,
Watched the scene below.
Angel wings slowed to a heartbeat
As if the anticipated excitement
Was too much for movement.
Every gaze was locked on the hillside
Where men milled around,
Where women wandered
And children chased each other
Caught up in the moment.
As one, heaven gasped,
And one young saint,
Too excited to stay quiet any longer
Whispered, ‘Here He comes.’
Noise and light grew stronger
As the whispers turned to shouts of joy
And the light, which was the glory of God
Pulsated to a rhythm known only to the Father.
And He came. Ascended, risen Lord;
The Son of God,
The Darling of Heaven!
Now the halls of heaven rang with Hallelujahs.
Angels turned somersaults and sang praises,
Saints, young and old, shouted greetings
And Jesus stood, inside the gates
Of iridescent pearl . . .
He stood – and gently the noise grew soft and faded.
All movement ceased; and silence reigned;
But the light – the glory of God –
Grew ever brighter; until neither saint nor angel
Could bear to look;
And in the brightness, footsteps could be heard
As God the Father stepped forward,
Arms open wide, and greeted His Beloved
With a strong embrace and tears of joy:
‘Welcome home, My Son.’