eternal King of endless realm
an embryo in a virgin's womb,
a baby laid in an animal's crib,
adored by shepherds,
worshiped by wise men seeking the King of the Jews,
hunted by a wicked king fearing a coup.
The King came
preaching the good news of His Kingdom,
healing broken bodies and souls,
breaking bread to feed multitudes,
blessing, breaking, giving Himself for our sins.
Pilate asked Him, was He a king?
He said without saying, He was.
The King came
on a cross,
thieves His courtiers,
a placard bearing His only crime:
"Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews."
The Kingdom of God comes
in the risen, ascended Jesus
sitting at the right hand of the Father;
pouring His Spirit into those who trust Him,
worship Him, follow Him;
in His power in their weakness;
in His light radiant in their brokenness;
in healing some wounds, redeeming all.
The Kingdom of God is coming
when the restoration of all things arrives,
the King on a white horse in salvation-soaked robes:
Faithful and True,
Word of God,
King of kings and Lord of lords;
death, last enemy, defeated;
His palace a forever, tearless, deathless, darkless tabernacle:
no brokenness there,
only light, life, healing, glory.
Come to the King, O broken one.
Enter His Kingdom through the cruciform gate.
There is yet time.
Let the people of the Kingdom pray,
"Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done."
Come, Lord Jesus.
We wait for You.
Although this poem originally began an Advent series, it has been on my mind today in light of the calendar's juxtaposition of Palm Sunday and the Feast of the Annunciation. May the Lord bless it to your encouragement as He has to mine.
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