I wrote on a note on my computer a journal entry about sorrow. It was a battle in me to be where I am as an adult but I was crying out for the child in me that needed to be held. I missed out on feeling what I needed to as a child in a lot of ways and this year I’ve re-experienced a lot of untouched emotions. That writing I had journaled led into the prophetic section from Isaiah 40. I didn’t even realize till months later that I had paralleled myself with Jerusalem and I took that and wrote this prophetic imagery:

She has been through war, first surrounded and starved, then breached and beaten. Her ramparts lie on the grass outside the walls. Stones have been overturned and shes looks around herself, still shaking. “Why”? “Why”, she thinks, but in her heart she knows. She turned from her King and she felt lost, so she ran to foreign things. None of her foreign things saved her on the battle field. All her soldiers are dead and she stands naked and shamed: a mere semblance of a beauty that nobles once renowned.
She looked at herself, completely ravaged. Her trinkets and money, the things she gave herself to, lying broken and useless next to her. Jerusalem sat down and wept. She, naked, without hope and completely alone, cried out to the Lord of whom she once knew. Her tears were so many and so pure that they ran down her legs that she clutched and cleaned the blood off some of her wounds. They ran and ran down her into a ravine she sat near, that had been dried out during the siege. You could see her tears sinking quickly into the cracked dirt.

Suddenly, she looked up, because she felt rain. There was a light above and drops of water falling on her head. She saw a face like a man’s in the cloud weeping for her, showering her with His tears. She realized then, that her tears had merely washed away the dried blood but His were healing them. Each tear drop that fell from His face eased a cut, then the next would put it together, and then a scab would form and he would cry out again and the scab would turned into a scar. Next the scar faded, but as it faded she looked up again for He was still crying, He was ever crying, and there she saw His hands with scars that surely He could dismiss with one tear. She looked even closer and saw scars on His feet and His back and His face. He looked like a man with many scars but His skin also had a sense of youth and His brilliance was of many stars.
It occurred to Jerusalem that He cried because she was hurting and it seemed He would weep until she was better. She felt drawn to him like a bride to her groom and she dearly wanted him to stop crying for her, for now she felt much better but desired to be held by Him.

A rushing sound turned her head. It was the sound of water. The ravine that was dry was now full and running swiftly, fuller than it ever was. Surely it was his continuous tears, like rain, that was filling it so swiftly. As it ran through her city each space got a touch of healing.

She could hear it being said among the clouds near the face of the man she longed for:
“Comfort, Her. Comfort her: tell her her hard work has been paid double for that she has received from the Lord, double for all her sin. Bring her back from captivity: let the time not be wasted and used for the King’s glory. Call back the prisoners out of darkness and tell them a great light has come forth shining bright and will bloom to the full width of day. Tell her she is worth it, she is loved, she is everything to her king. She is spotless though all called her blemished. She is beautiful though they saw her haggard. She is shameless though they looked on and breathed out obscenity. Her life has been ransomed and all her sins have been paid for. She rides on the waves of victory, that once washed over her. She’s come from wasted shores and lonely isles to an abundant garden and she’s as perfect as Eve ever was before she ate of life and death but she is also different than eve because though she shares her joy its not in NOT knowing death its knowing that HIS death brought her back.”
Out of the heaps of rock and stone, Jerusalem’s people came from hiding, for a few had been kept behind, a remnant, hidden in the debris. At the weeping they had peered out of hiding, and at the words they came out to look at the clouds. As the river of tears ran through the city and the voice spoke the walls began to rebuild themselves and the stones lying embedded in the dirt and dust woke up in obedience to their Master Builder who now having stopped crying was coming out of the clouds clad in armor on a white stallion, shining like the sun. An army advanced with him out of the clouds. With His scepter He set the capstone into place and all the stones, now reflecting His light and even taking on the forms of precious stones with brilliance like jasper and amber, diamond, and purple stone ordered themselves one on top of the other. The city was rebuilding, and the King and His army took leave to bring back the captivity of Jerusalem.

Jerusalem ran to the top rampart, now put back together, and she laid her hands on the jasper colored wall and covered her eyes so she could see a further distance. As lightening they went out and as she waited, the clouds grew dark and started to form large and dangerous. In the distance she thought she heard clashing and thunder: A great commotion, even so that dust was stirred and a gray brown loomed on the horizon. The captives, she guessed were now spread out, for the army that took them was vast and powerful, covering the earth with its thoughts, ideals, and provocation.

Jerusalem grew tired despite the excitement and she laid down on the purple stone floor. It was cool, refreshing, and yet warm and inviting, each stone she touched reflected a different sweet redemption story, that she guessed she would have time later to look into.

Darkness fell on the land one last time and just as she fell asleep, she was awakened by a light in the darkness like nothing she had ever felt. It was not just warmth it was electrifying joy. She jumped up and saw the distance growing brighter and brighter as if the sun was coming up but it wasn’t the sun. It was the KING! He had come back and people were coming in droves up to the city. She ran down to open the gates but they were already flung wide open! The people, looked like all people, of all races, and they were coming with the King behind them up the slope, in to the city and they filled it to overflowing. The spirit of God was on each one and they spoke in tongues so that everyone could understand one another. The city walls had spread out and opened its twelve gates which were now receiving people from every corner of the world. They swept in and kept coming. She thought it wouldn’t end but then the King arrived at the rear. He came in and the people were already dancing for him. They were clothed in His beauty and were ready to eat at His banquet, which had appeared at the center of the city with goblets fit for nobility and plates of crystal. The food was what she’d always imagined the garden of Eden had: fruits of every color, honey cakes with fresh honey and cream, vegetation like earth’s fields had never seen and sweeter than had ever been. The drink was a juice and wine mix: freshly pressed and decoratively bubbly.
If someone came into the city with a burden it was lifted. If someone came with a disease it left them. If someone came with a wound or a hurt it was touched by the river and disappeared. Those who left someone behind had more family and joy than could satisfy their needs for the rest of eternity. Sorrow was less than a memory and more of a smoking gun. It was the fire in the King’s eyes and the kindling of His army. Sorrow deep in His heart caused Him to lay down His life and Sorrow to Defeat the Enemy and Sorrow to Return Again. It was Sorrow in death that He felt which turned heart break into longing for His bride. They do not abhor sorrow here, sorrow is only for the King, and His ravaging sorrow has been met with the overwhelming beauty in His bride and finally his fire is quenched.

Jerusalem could no longer contain herself, although she had been taking this all in for a long time she now couldn’t stand just watching. She felt about to burst to now meet her Love Face to Face. She ran to the King, who was surrounded by people, and they made a way for her. As she ran her clothes turned to white trimmed in lace. She ran but the cloth dress trailed behind her and grew as she went. The train was so long that the young maidens from the crowd came to gather it up so she could run unhindered and each maiden, making a total of twelve (six on each side), touched the gown and became like starlight, adorned in diamonds. As Jerusalem ran a belt fastened around her waste, beautiful shoes appeared on her feet rimmed in jewels, and a crown of pure gold grew on her head just as white buds and blood red roses bloomed from within her thickly braided hair. The closer she came to him the more beautiful she became, glistening in the light and glowing from within. She touched His hands, and her heart nearly exploded. She met His lips almost trembling with delight and His deep brown eyes fed into her soul a love deeper than the ocean had been. She would never again forget the love that now was instilled in her. She was a part of Him, she was a partner with Him. She was His bride, His city, His people and they would share together eternally.

His left hand clasped hers and as His right hand fed into her waist, He brought her close to Him searching Her eyes with a smile. He knows her. His bride is His and He’d been waiting for this moment. She felt the time had been so long and He, though time for Him was relative, felt it was relatively too long but He waited so He could have as much of her as He could.

They began to dance. The space cleared for them and they danced in the courtyard feeling the closeness, soaking in the moments that they’d never miss again. The time of waiting was over. He loved her with an inexpressible passion. Like a rose in His garden, He tended to her over and over, constantly watching her with love. His gaze, was an attractive light, one she soaked in like the sun and bathed in like a soothing bath.

As she walked He strode to meet Her, everyday, a constant supply, a roving pattern, that has been made ready, spun into the very fabrics of our being.

The city of our King is us and we are being made ready for Him. His Jerusalem, His Zion, is getting a makeover, having been torn a part and dissembled. He is coming to take back what is His and restore His city: bringing about a new heaven and new earth so He can eternally be with us! He waits like a groom about to meet His bride. Are you ready? Do you want to taste His love for you? He is coming like a King, a King set on a path of conquest and victory.