He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. Isaiah 53:2
These words devastate and captivate me. I want to avoid them and abide in them. For they hold a holiness that brings wholeness.
No beauty or majesty that we should desire.
From the beginning of me and He, beauty came like a breeze and stirred my senses. His voice was like sunrise come to warm the bluest sky with radiance of gold, fetching my face aglow. His eyes were like starlight piercing a dark night, shining ever brighter for the darkness I had known. And His smile. His smile a prism refracting every wave of light across the shore of me, cleansing with the strength of hope and hue.
He didn’t seem to be on my little mountaintop; He was the mountain. A place of rest and respite. Closer than a whisper’s reach, He hovered above and below, revealing the shape of me, when melded with Him.
I just knew, He was a King. He was the Kingdom come. And He came for me. His crown was crafted of pine tree, meadow daisy, bird song and river rapid. His robe a congregation of clouds in acres of blue. I loved Him there, more than breath, air or oxygen.
And yet, how often have I stumbled over Him, bowed and bent, extending Himself into my exile, looking for a way to deliver myself? How many times have I clutched Him by royal robe, demanding what He is already giving? And how often have I wanted him to move faster when His love longs to linger or cried for Him to slow down when His sprint is aimed right at my newest Goliath? How few have the times been that I’ve allowed His cadence to cease my cycle?
But His majesty! He sets a table in the presence of the enemy of me and seals my fate, as His.
Even as He eagerly desires.
And He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” Luke 22:15
There is no circumstance where this King doesn’t meet our lack with His desire. Eager desire, to sup with us, still trying to swallow what we gained for ourselves. He suffered for our sustenance, was felled for our feast.
Though I have been shame pocked, fear seared and doubt delayed, He sees the beauty of He in me. And He desires for me to be with Him.
I love Him here. More than breath, air or oxygen. He is still my crowned King. I have at times faltered, but never forgotten. He is beautiful and fills all my moments with majesty. Long has He been my desire. Ever will He be.
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