Many months ago, I read the book of Revelation cover to cover on my way to the office on the train. This was a strange way to start my day, and you know what I mean if you've read the book of Revelation in one sitting (or at all). Since that day, though, there is one particular line, which appears at the very end that has been seared into my soul, haunting me at times. Jesus says: "Yes, I am coming soon," and the text then says: "Amen. Come, Lord Jesus." Come, Lord Jesus. I sometimes wonder what kind of emotion was behind this simple, power-packed prayer. John, the author, knew and loved Jesus in the flesh. What must saying these words have evoked in him once Jesus had been taken up to be with the Father? Tears well in my eyes when I say it or pray it. There are stories I hear from others or on the news to which I can only respond with three words: Come, Lord Jesus. There are also deeply personal struggles I face to which there is only one prayer I can muster: Come, Lord Jesus. And what incredible sustenance and indescribable holiness calling on the name of the Lord Jesus brings. Try it sometime. A recent encounter with this prayer:
Come, Lord Jesus
A wine glass and my book with cracked binding
teetered on the edge of the bathtub
as I floated in the warm, still water,
breathing out the end of another day.
And then you were there, sitting beside me
with an endless grace in your eyes that
was meant for me in just that moment
of lonely struggle and pain.
Without words, I understood you knew
the source of each tear that ran down my face,
how my heart cried to you for strength
and pushed you away in my weakness.
You knew the heaviness I carried
and worked unsuccessfully to overcome.
You knew my darkest moments and most
hurtful, deceptive deeds and considerations.
With your mere presence, love rushed in,
swallowing in an instant all loneliness and pain,
all guilt, shame, and sin,
as if they had never been born or indulged.
My eyes fixed on yours.
How you love me.
Yes, I am coming soon.
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.