Monday, November 24, 2014

The best is yet to come

My father had a James autocycle. He rode it to Blackpool one day to find some accommodation for our annual holiday. For some reason, he didn't find any. On the way back, he got lost. He wound up in a little village, where he saw a sign in a front room window: Apartments. He went in and booked.

The village had two buses a week: one on Tuesday afternoon, and one on Thursday afternoon. If you missed the one on Tuesday, you had to wait until Thursday. On our holiday, my parents were bored to death. I thought it was marvellous. I revelled in the fields, the farms with their young calves and the stream running through the village with fish in it.

In those days, it was customary to have one week's holiday away each year. Almost no one had transport. You walked through the streets to the railway station and pushed your way on to a packed train, suitcases in hand. Most people went to Blackpool. The adventurous might decide to go to Morecambe. If you thought yourself a cut above the rest, you would go to Southport. Only company directors and Woolworths managers, it seemed, went to North Wales.

All that changed for me when I was 15 years old. I went on a coach tour to North Wales. The coach went along the A5 across North Wales. I sat by the window, captivated by the countryside. I thought I had never seen anything so beautiful.

I have had quite a lot of holidays since then. I have often thought I would like to see Israel again before I die. It doesn't look like I am going to manage it now. It doesn't much matter; I will see Israel again. When the Lord Jesus Christ returns and brings us with Him, He will reign in Jerusalem. We will reign with Him.

Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse. And he who sat on him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war.

His eyes were like a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns. He had a name written that no one knew except himself.

He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called the Word of God.

 And the armies in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed him on white horses.

Now out of his mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it he should strike the nations. And he himself will rule them with a rod of iron. He himself treads the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God.

And he has on his robe and on his thigh a name written:
                                                                                                                   Rev 19:11 - 16.

Blessed and holy is he who has a part in the first resurrection. Over such the second death has no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years.
                                                                                                                   Rev 20:6.

There's something to look forward to.

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