As I was standing in this vast field, I saw this multitude of thousands of many, many young girls passing in front of me. All dressed up in their white gowns, looking and very carefully watching a spot up ahead.

They were standing fast and very attentively and with great expectancy were waiting for a call from the same place which they were watching. In my spirit I knew this point they were watching was the palace of the great King to come.

When yet there was no sign or any kind of hint of a change, in no time they very assuredly felt in their very innermost beings that the call they were expecting was about to be given, the alarm they were waiting for was about to sound, the trumpet they were to hear was about to be blown.

With all these, suddenly, there was a dynamic and enthusiastic motion in the multitude and a military order to immediately take their ranks in the line.

I was watching their clear faces. They knew what they were prepared for and knew where they were heading. But one thing drew my attention that in all that, they were very calm.

There was no excitement.

There was no passion whatsoever.

And again everything was in strict military progression.

Then my thought came back to myself. Very quickly I took a glance at what I was wearing and where I was standing, and which rank I should be taking. As I looked at myself I saw myself wearing the same white gown they were wearing.

They were satisfied and felt complete with what they were wearing. They felt they were ready to answer the call. They did not feel any other urgency. Calm and restful in their hearts.

But as for me I felt very incomplete with what I was wearing. I was not satisfied at all with what I had. I was not ready for the call. I felt a great urgency for more preparation.

I became troubled in my heart.

I became emotional.

I became frantic and desperate.

And there was only this one thing I was sure of. The trumpet was about to be blown. The King was about to come out of His palace, to take His bride, and I was not ready.

Another thing I knew. That I did not want to join that multitude. They were remarkably orderly. But they were not excited. They were not aroused.

But I was excited.

I was thrilled.

I was inflamed and kindled to the deepest core of my heart.

That was the main reason that kept me from joining them.

As I helplessly was looking around, something touched me. A spark of light, a flare of hope, a stream of encouragement.

Filled with determination, I was empowered to go on to fulfill my destiny.

With that, strangely enough, I was led to run to the exact opposite direction of where they were proceeding.

The time I had left was so limited. The King could come out any moment now. And I would MISS IT.

Distraught with that thought and being still beside myself, I desperately continued to run. It all came to an end only when I reached this very special dressing room. I pushed the door open and hurried in.

It was an uncommonly bright and radiant place. Surges of hope engulfed me. I cheered up. I was gladdened in my heart, restored in my spirit.

Servants in their black formal attires were attending to their offices. There was a connection in our spirits. They knew all about me, all about my thoughts and goings. They knew I was coming and they were expecting my appearance.

They welcomed me in and hastily took their positions to assist me in the preparations I needed. They were sharp and shrewd, acute and skilled in all that they were doing.

Again, time was very limited, but somehow I was comforted. I was in good hands. They were ministering to me with all their hearts and with all their might.

They were managing the time and everything all together so wisely that they would surely carry it out successfully to the detail before the time was up. As blow by blow, with great fuss, they were taking care of every aspect of her look in every way, she reached out to this jewelry box right on the dressing table in front of her.

These were the jewelry that she had been collecting all her life, to wear on the Lord's Day. By her estimation, she had paid a great price for each piece that was in that box. She was saving and preserving that box with her life. The price that had been paid was the tears and the circumstances of life.

Every tear that had been shed, the circumstances of life that had been endured, every extra mile that had been traversed for His name and cause had made it possible for her to own that jewelry box with gemstones in it.

With great joy and anticipation she started putting them on with great care, dreaming of the bliss of the approaching moment.

Every beautifying work done on her, every piece of jewelry put on the bride, would make her desirable to the King (Ps. 45:11) so that He would be longing to be united with her.

As the final touches were being made by the ministering angels and she was putting on the last pieces of her jewelry to complement her appearance with the bridal gown she was wearing, she knew that long awaited moment was drawing near and she was almost ready to take her position in the great event to come.

It was done. Every touch was completed. Every piece of jewelry was put on. The King would surely take His joy in her. The King would surely commend her for her beauty. The King would surely reward her with His love. And the King would surely take her into the inner chambers of His palace in His heavenly kingdom.

One final touch, one look to the mirror and she would be all set for her divine appointment.

But alas! What a shame! As she looks at the mirror she becomes extremely disappointed. This was not what she had been expecting. This was not what she was being prepared for.

All those jewelry of high value, all the diamonds, the emeralds, the rubies bought at such a high price looked so simple and meaningless compared to the glory of the Day.

They looked so dim, so unworthy, so non-precious. In no way was she ready to go out and meet Him. In no way was He going to find her attractive and desirable.

As she recalled the incidents she had gone through to be able to buy those invaluable things in the box, her heart bled. All in vain.

The day was too glamorous, the groom too glorious. They were not appropriate or well chosen enough for His highness. She would definitely not fit with the majesty of the groom.

All hope was lost. All hope of a lifetime. All hope for the bliss to come. All hope eternally gone in such a short time.

With all these, her shoulders fell, and the angels retreated one step back. Complete silence in the room. The silence of deadly hopelessness.

Where was He? Where was the lover of her soul? Why had He tarried so long?

She couldn't stand it any longer. She just wanted to run away. But where? If she could only fly like a bird high, high up into the mountains, where she could find hope again. If only love could follow her up into the high mountain or far out into the desert.

Could she still put her trust in Him? Would He become her high mountain once again? Could He speak peace to her troubled soul? Would He heal her broken heart?

Yes beloved! Yes! He sees it all. He hears it all. Once again He will take you through triumphantly. Fly to Him in your spirit and see what He can do for you.

His goodness and mercy will find you. You ARE going to take your seat at the delightful table prepared for you. Though it might be too late, though the time might almost be over, He would surely find a way to work it out once more to bring you into His presence forever and evermore.

A climate of hope started mounting up in the room, when her heart started beating faster with this familiar presence approaching her, closer and closer.

Yes. It was Him. It was Him. In all His splendor. In all His majesty. He had kept His promise. The Master had come and was calling her. He had come to catch away His bride. He had come to sing His song of love to her. He had come to wipe away her tears.

The awareness, the consciousness, the insight of His presence had been enough to fill her with all the power and strength for the moment.

He entered in and stood right behind her. The whole universe was holding her breath. No movement in the heavenlies. And no need for words. Just the heart melting looks in His eyes and that deep expression of His face.

He very quietly and gracefully took out a jewelry box of His own and started adorning her with His own gentle and loving hands for the final touches. Love, so much love. Joy, so much joy. Pride, so much pride in His heart for His bride.

The quality of the jewelry He was placing on her, could not be compared to the choicest of that which would have been available on any corner of this earth, on any neck of any queen of any kingdom of this world. But only on His queen who had faithfully been waiting for the day of His coming, Having never given up on the hope of His promise.

The sparkle, the glamour, the worth they were producing was stunning. She knew she had been given the true treasures which would never pass away and she would be great in His kingdom.

She was complete now. She felt perfectly dressed up for the day now. A lifetime of preparation was perfected now.

And it was only Him that could have perfected all those achievements of a lifetime. Never enough of our efforts, but Him alone.

"It is finished" were His last words on the cross. And it was finished. His grace, His grace alone had finished His perfect work in her. As with all the heartbreaks, she had let Him work His work of grace in her life, He had brought her into His likeness. He had made her a vessel of honour to take her position right next to Him, to be in the fellowship of His love and honour for a whole eternity.

The most blessed time had come. Very soon they would be at the pearly gate. Very soon she was going to be represented to the Father by her beloved groom. To be His pride before the Father.

To possess that which was ordained for her to have even from the foundation of the world. Simply because she had been brought up and trained in the protocol of the royal family to take her place on the throne when her hour to reign had come. "Well done, good and faithful servant". Enter in to the joy of your Lord.

Louise Karakas

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