"Just as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for her,

that he might sanctify and cleanse her

with the washing of the water by the word,

that he might present her to himself a glorious church."

 

 

With her hand in His, He leads her away from the field of struggle and into the safe and hidden place he prepared for her. An oasis to come away with Him to be nurtured . With her labors to be made ready for the wedding day. crystal-clear pool and begins washing the toil from her hands and the sweat from her brow, removing every thorn and briar that clung to her skin as she passed through His field.

 

His eyes well with tears as He reads the lines of the vow of love written in scars on her back where injustice struck, and struck again, but she didn’t rise to her own defense; where wounds of Mercy healed but left their mark. Then He gently places His hand to her side, to the open place, torn by betrayal, the place she chose tender over callous. She kept herself open. Vulnerable, but tender.

 

“And to her It was given that she should be arrayed in fine linen,

clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints.”

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Having washed her, He then reaches for the clasps at His shoulder, unfastening the ornate golden buckles that hold the pure white train to His back. Then, extending it toward her, He offers her what He has carried with Him while He awaited the day He would behold her.

 

Her face melts with emotion as she carefully examines the fine linen gown that now rests in her arms, holding the fruit of her faithful labor. Each strand familiar, fibers marked with the fingerprints of the one who would spend herself in love in the field he left behind; The place where He had hidden seeds of heavenly flax that, when returned to His hands, were woven to dress His Bride in true Glory.

 

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"...and to present her to himself as a radiant church,

without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish,

but Holy and blameless."

 

 

Finally the moment arrives for the revealing of His beloved Bride. When she appears, the crowd falls silent, struck by her glorious appearance. This one found Lowly, whose body was battered in His field, now radiant beyond compare; the one unsung by the world, whose life wrote the lines of the song that He loved.

 

She comes to the head of the aisle that leads to Him, shining in the dignity that was waiting for her on the other side of a life laid down. Her heart pounds wildly as she pauses, waiting for the cue for her slow and poised approach.

 

Feeling the attention of the crowd, she steadies her breath, then slowly lifts her eyes to see Him there, waiting for her, eyes fiercely ablaze and set upon her. Everything fades as she locks in to His steady and confident gaze, the one that says “I knew you would come” and tears that whisper “how I’ve longed for the day.”

 

In an instant, Joy enlivens her so completely that she cannot restrain her anticipation for him. She takes hold of the edges of her skirt, lifting the hem of her gown off the floor to allow her feet to run to Him.

 

As she races toward Him, He moves to meet her on her way. Then lifting her, He carries her to the place where she will finally find her home at His side; His wounded side where He was torn but left open, so that the one whose flesh was torn like His might find the place to bind herself to Him forever.