I am sharing a blog that my brother Randy wrote recently. I love the way his heart and theology are wrapped into the words that come from his hand. This look beyond where our senses usually take us is a five minute journey into the heart of our Savior. You can follow his blogs on Facebook by finding his page at “Randy Julie Walterman.” You will be blessed as you read the following.
Robe of Majesty
It had always been on His mind. It had always been in His heart. It had always been His plan, but now the “fulness of times” had come. The regal robes of the solitary Son had been laid aside and stored by the angels with great care. Now from a small dust-colored box, drab and tattered garments were lifted and placed around His shoulders.
The light of heaven’s radiant glory dimmed as the Son of Man began His descent to earth. The angels fell silent. The host of heaven stood on tiptoe to watch the strange unfoldings on earth as the eternal God was born as a helpless child. But earth itself was wrapped in a shroud and the angels’ keen eyes looked in vain. Yet from the lowly planet a few distant voices reached their ears.
“Mary, a son!” “Joseph, he’s so beautiful. Look at those tiny fingers.” The angels smiled in gentle delight. But those voices faded, and others took their place.
“If you’re the Son of God, turn these stones into bread,” hissed one. Another spoke, “Rabbi, why don’t your disciples keep the Sabbath?” Another shrieked, “He blasphemes!” “It’s just the Devil’s power that he uses.”
The angels murmured in consternation, but other voices came. “Lord, heal me.” “Master, come quickly.” Son of David, heal this poor blind man.” “Lord, we perish.” “Hurry, Master.” “Touch me.” “Help me.” “Sir, my son, my daughter, my wife, my servant. Hurry.” “Master!”
But these voices, too, faded. The angels grew more puzzled as other voices took their place. “Are You the king?” “Why don’t You defend Yourself?” “Don’t You know who You’re talking to? I could have You killed!” “What shall I do with this man?”
To the angels’ horror other voices screamed back, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” But in heaven their shouts were only whispers.
Then all the voices faded out as the dull thud of a hammer echoed in the vaults of heaven. Then silence. Nothing moved. Folded wings, bowed heads. Glory had died.
Suddenly a crack of thunder resonated through the angelic throng. They leaped to their feet. Their tongues were loosened. It seemed as if every voice in heaven was speaking at once. The sound was like a great ocean wave that kept rising and rising. The sound began to coalesce into a rhythmic chant, “Behold the King! Behold the King! Behold the King!”
The chant crescendoed as a blinding light came into view. At the center of its radiance the angels saw the returning champion, the Conquering One. Waves of majesty and glory pulsated from Him with every step that He took.
Wonder of wonders – He still wore the dull, drab garments He had left heaven with. But the wonder of the angels grew as they saw in the light of glory what they had missed before. On each thread of His garment was written a name- some in Russian, some in French, some in Swahili, others in Greek or Chinese letters, some in German, some in English. Millions, no billions of names – each one a thread in the plain garment He wore.
Angels hurried to Him, bringing the glittering robes of majestic royalty He had laid aside for His time on earth. But the King of all glory just smiled, shook His head, and wrapped the old robe even closer around Him as He ascended to the throne of the universe.
There is still time to buy your copy of “Fresh Heart For a New Day’ (Volumes 1 and 2) before January 1st. Enjoy a daily devotional every day in the new year. The book(s) can be ordered through Amazon or Barnes and Noble.