Sunday, April 7, 2013

The Most Wonderful Place

I once heard that there was a Place, a Place where all one's dreams come true.  A Place where you need not fear the slightest harm.  A Place where everyone wears a happy face.  A Place where chores are not a bear to do.  A Place where it does neither rain nor storm.

So I set out to find this Place.  I asked my friends if they knew where it was.  Most laughed and said it was a made-up land, a grand deception lined with lace.  But I believed as many a soul does that the Place was somewhere I could firmly stand.

I was desperate to find this Place.  I began asking everyone I came across, but no one knew what I was really talking about.  One man said it was his pretty wife's face.  Another, for what I was asking, was at a total loss. And one even looked at me in doubt.

But of this Place I was sure.  I would travel the world and find it on my own,  and prove to all the people that I was not mad.  I stood on Europe's shores, but it was not there.  I looked in Asia, but that seemed a dead-end zone.  It seemed that every happy place there was was also sad.

I began to give up hope on this Place.  Perhaps I was a little crazy for believing it real.  I was living with no purpose anymore until a man came into view.  He was so old he looked a bit of a space-case.  But when he looked at me, his eyes pulled me in like a reel.  He said nothing, only turned around and pointed into the blue.

I looked where he was pointing, but saw nothing there.  He sensed that I didn't see and again drew me back with his eyes.  Then he points again to the same Place.  The sun is in my eyes so there is a glare.  He knows I can't see it and in sadness he sighs.  This time he takes my hand and all selfish thoughts erase.

A look in his eyes and he bids me walk with him.  I can't pull away, don't even want to.  My eyes are fixed on his, but he looks straight ahead.  It's as if he is resolved and nothing will stop him.  He's come for a reason and his resolve will come through.  He'll carry it out no matter if it takes to the moment before I'm dead.

He looks at me once, but I can't read his expression.  Is it just plain gentleness? Or is it joy? Perhaps anticipation.  And in that moment he stops and bids me look around.  I pull my eyes away from his, they're drawn to one object and there's no question:  There stands a cross, so present, like a strong declaration  that for me the Son of God was driven to a grave in the ground.

I'm taken completely off guard and feel tears start to well up.  I look into the face of my companion, but he's been transformed.  He wears a kingly robe and on his head a crown, and his face shines.  And for the first time he speaks, "This is the cup, This is the cup I drank for you, so that you could be reborn.  So that you would come to this place and I would make you mine."

On my knees my tears are streaming now and he's smiling so beautifully.  "I saw you before you were in this world," he says,  "And not for works of righteousness which you have done,
but you were chosen for my own glory."  He bids me leave my burdens at the cross and tells me he will set me in a winning race to run.

 He again takes my hand in his and we begin to walk.  He tells me of his kingdom, his love, and how I must be a living testimony for him; that I'll fear no harm as long as I'm by his side; at the tasks he'll bid me do, I'll not want to balk; I'll be happy and rejoicing all the day long with songs and hymns; and all my wants will be supplied.

And as long as I'm content with my Jesus and don't begin to restlessly stir, no storm cloud will dare enter into my life.  And suddenly it dawns on me as a new day, my new life begins that this is the Place of which I once heard, where there is no darkness, no sadness, no strife.  And that wondrous beautiful Place is in my dear sweet Jesus' arms!

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