Originally published March 25, 2016
They’re words cooed by a mother to dry the tears of her frightened child.
Words murmured bedside by a nurse calming her anxious patient.
They’re comforting words, imparted by someone in charge, someone taking care of us, someone we’re depending on. Words that God has spoken to His people from the beginning.
I’m coming back.
From walking with God Himself in the cool of the day to banishment from the Garden.
The anguish of giving birth.
The toil of tilling the ground.
The sting of physical death.
Could anything compare to man’s ache of losing tangible communion with God? And, yet, even in the curse of the Fall, His bold declaration rang out:
I’m coming back.
In base splendor.
In humble glory.
Emmanuel – God with us – came back.
He tabernacled for a time among us, but all too quickly, the days of His visitation drew to an end.
Time and again, though they would not yet understand,
Though the cross was unfathomable,
And the empty tomb, unimaginable,
He gathered His disciples close and taught, with unassailable authority:
I’m coming back.
They saw the stone rolled away. The nail prints. His riven side. They ate with Him, walked with Him, talked with Him. They followed Him out to a hillside and watched as He was taken up into the clouds.
And with them, we wait. We set our gaze upon the heavens. We long for His blessed return. And we hear the same words they heard…
Words which should drive terror-stricken sinners to their knees in repentance and faith…
Words which warm the hearts of believers with glorious hope, comfort, and joy…
Words which, one dazzling and magnificent day, will never need be heard again…
HE’S COMING BACK.
He’s coming back.
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Michelle Lesley 