How are our joys heightened by hope. But sadly—sometimes
our hopes may be false! And how vainly are our expectations pointed at some
future worldly enjoyment, which, when it comes, shall perhaps disappoint
us—even in the enjoyment of it! Yet, for such things we long, though, in a
manner—we are actually hankering after our own misery.
But how much does it rather behoove me, if I am an heir
of God, an expectant of eternal bliss, and a candidate for everlasting
glory—to be waiting for him who shall appear the second time without sin
unto salvation; and to be hastening unto the day of the Lord, and crying,
"Why is his chariot so long in coming? Why do the wheels of his chariot
tarry so long?" When will these skies divide—to let my Lord descend? When
will these celestial doors fly open, that the exalted One may come in all
his his heavenly glory, with his holy angels? When shall the starry way of
eternal communion be stretched out between the highest heavens, along with
the new earth, wherein righteousness shall dwell? When shall I begin to
behold him in all his glory, whom eye has not seen, and to see him without a
cloud—who is altogether lovely? When shall my soul be revived with the
smell of the Rose of Sharon in the paradise of God, and sit down with great
delight under the shadow of the Tree of life, the Plant of renown—and eat
of his immortalizing fruit, and drink of his refined wine? When shall I join
my songs with the anthems of eternity, and mingle my grateful notes with the
harpers round the throne?
When shall the hiding hills, the intervening heights—be
melted down by the beatific vision of your blessed self; and the valley of
darkness, and depths of despondency, rise into the mount of communion with
you? When shall I enter into the joy of my Lord, walk with you in white, and
be satisfied with your likeness? Then shall I know you as I desire, praise
you as I aspire after, and love you as I would!