That Beautiful Day

I can see the Son; He is as bright and beautiful as the sunrise after a stormy day. A voice as loud as thunder and as gentle as a spring breeze calls me by name. I run as fast as my feet can carry me. All at once I am before Him; His hands and feet still bear the scars from the nails, and His head displays the wounds from the crown of thorns. But, O! How beautiful He is.

He holds out His pierced hands, and as I reach for them, He stoops down and brings me closer to Him. As suddenly as He draws me near, I am in the Throne Room.

No words could describe the sight before me. Seated on the throne above me, is my Savior. He gazes steadily down at me, almost through me. Awe-struck by the glory that is around me, I fall to the floor. Tears stream down my face, no words could define the Presence in the Throne Room. As I cry, I hear the seraphim calling out "Holy, holy, holy..."

Bowed down, with my head touching the floor, I do not notice that my King steps down from His throne; nor do I notice the silence that falls. Heavenly creatures are curious to know what their Lord will do with the fallen daughter of Adam. It is only when He picks up my head I realize He is kneeling before me. He wipes the tears from my face, and I hear Him say, "Welcome home My Child."