I woke in a new day’s earliest hours, darkness complete except for the full moon’s glory making shadows that stacked over colorless sights of renown.

I noticed the unchanged sound of the ocean waves coming ashore.  I could smell the familiar coastal air.  I felt a coolness from the seemingly ever-present and constant water’s breeze.  But the beautiful vista was gone.


Where had the mountains hid themselves?  Where had the trees run?  Had the mighty trunks of the fir turned to legs that led the forests to new hills of grazing?  Did the carpet of green roll up and follow, taking every flower along the way?  I touch these things, but are they real?  Do they really exist?  They are the same as each noon day sun creates them, yet they do not reside here anymore.  Vacant are the rivers.  Absent are the landscapes.  Naked and shameful they hide themselves.


But soon the faithful servant will bring their robes, and clothe them with many colors.  The hands of light will drape them in golden lace and reveal their splendor.  Uncountable mistresses will dress, change, and replace wardrobe after wardrobe.  Shy at first, but then yielding to the specter of glory, the mountains return.  The trees step from their secret place and are wrapped in medals of honor, each brilliant unto itself.  Flowers slowly emerge to a cascading shower of splendor, raining over them every color of heaven.  The rivers reappear and drink once again from the breast of the sky, filling themselves with the milk of unmeasured deepness so freely offered.


And when all is ready, when the majesty’s court is dressed and fully prepared, the king appears in heralded announcement, spreading his arms in pleasure at the colorful beauty of his subjects.  The cloth of night is drawn from the table, revealing a banquet never so gloriously seen.  The shroud of darkness is peeled away, and a new day created.


My eyes now witness what my smell and feelings could not convince.  Today brings color to that which was colorless.  All things are painted new and are revived.  With the dressing of a new day, also comes the created living.  Birds wake and sing their reveille.  Animals appear and tend to the newly clothed.  All life awakens to the dressing of the day, to the preparing for the king.  How wonderful the sight.  How glorious the feeling.  Once again enjoying the vista.


Awake my soul!  Prepare yourself for the appearance of your King.  Dress in the robes of magnificence given by the King’s own Word.  Drape yourself in the splendor of color meant for His arrival.  Glorify Him.  Enter His courts with singing and praise.  Wait unto Him.  Prepare thyself O my soul, for The King is coming.  Thy King is coming.



The Dressing Of The Day by Ronhales                                                                                                                          Hebrews 9:24

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