And the redeemed
of the Lord will return
and come to Zion with singing,
crowned with unending joy.
Joy and gladness will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee.
Isaiah 51:11 CSB
Feet shuffled and
dust kicked up into a hazy beige swirl around them as the captives were led
further and further away from their home. They had lost everything: home, work,
everything they owned, even loved ones, but worst of all, they had lost their
freedom. No longer could they wake up in their own beds, work for their own
good, celebrate their joyous festivals, or even just go where they wanted to
go. Regardless of what they were before- carpenters, artists, lawyers, or
teachers- they all bore the same name now: SLAVE. The job they were given was
their new identity and only death could free them from this oppressive life
sentence. These were the musings of the road-worn men, women, and children, as
their shoulders slumped lower and the heavy burden of their captivity beat down
every shred of dignity.
Until…
Far off in the
distance, a cloud of dust was growing bigger and bigger as it grew closer to
their meager band of captives and captors. A teenage boy rubbed the particles
of dust from his eyelashes and strained to get a better look at the giant
unknown dust storm that was barreling straight for them. He couldn’t believe
what he saw. It was their beloved Prince, dressed in purple and riding His
glorious chariot behind gleaming white steeds, along with a great army of
mighty warriors close at His heels. This Prince, the young man knew, was even
mightier than the warriors that fought by His side, and would stop at nothing
to rescue His subjects, out of His great love for them.
The captors also
caught sight of the Prince, with His shining sword drawn so that the rays of
the sun reflected beams of bright light in what seemed all directions, but with
the point held firmly ahead, right at them. Their knees buckled with fear and
sweat soaked their hair and clothing as they shuffled to reach for knives,
spears, swords, anything they could use to defend themselves. But, as the
Prince and His army drew closer and the captors could see the fierce
determination in His face could be seen, in an instant, they melted like wax
from a long-burning candle and attempted to take flight, away from their
approach.
The captives
huddled together in a stunned, but hopeful heap, praying for freedom. Before
the dust settled, they could easily see that their captors were done for. The
interlopers who had taken their lives were now overtaken. The Prince
immediately jumped on one of His horses and rode swiftly toward them. He leapt
off His horse when it was just a few steps from the huddled mass of people,
dusty from head-to-toe and still bleeding from the wounds of their violent
capture. An old farmer was straining his eyes to see with his callused hand
raised to shadow them from the sun. The Prince reached him first. In one
movement, he took hold of the man’s tanned, muscular arm and pulled him into a
warm embrace, saying, “I’ve got you. You’re free!” as tears rimmed both pairs
of eyes.
A few days later,
as the redeemed marched alongside their Redeemer, they sang His praises, with
hands raised, showing the evident scars from the shackles that had once circled
their wrists. They marched in confidence, knowing that there was no more
danger, no more violence, no tears to be shed; only joy. Because, as their
Prince had declared, “I’ve got you. You’re free!” He had proclaimed their
identity- they were His- as well as their new eternal state- they were FREE.
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