Is it to me He speaks, that worthy Lamb of God?
His place of royal majesty becomes His worthiness. He claims no honor more than faithfulness has won. Those shouts of acclamation as first He took that place, all His the praise as high above each name of every high exalted power His Name was placed. A perfect recognition of His worth, to which the ages of His faithfulness have led.
With me it is so different. Who is, who can be yet, sufficient for these things? Yet has He lifted from the dunghill to set among princesses and princes those who beg for mercy-crumbs and find no cause of pleasure in their flesh. Their only claim on heaven's grace is hunger, the inner aching of the soul for righteousness and freedom from sin's stain. Their heart confesses all its deepest need, and gratefully accept what grace supplies.
Yet what wisdom lies beyond the Father's choice of such, whose sinful state confessed, would love Him most, and tell it in their tears. He brings to naught the things that are with things that in their eyes are naught, yet in His sight so dear. All human cause of pride, great intellect or skill, how it would intrude, impede that task of grace, His workmanship of love.
As David laid aside ill-fitting armor of Saul's pride, so we with deep relief depend our all upon no fleshly frame nor strength of body or of mind, but on the faithfulness of Him Who never calls but can complete what He began. For never does He ask without supply abundantly of every needed aid.
That queen all glorious there displays no merit of her own supply, but stands a miracle of grace and witness to His skill, not hers. The shouts of praise that rend the heavens now as she ascends that glory throne are not for her but for that love that faced the cross on her behalf, nor would it rest until she shared that closeness at His side. And thus begin the ages all with glory filled, exhibiting His kindness, grace and love towards us in His Son. All that she is, and every grace in her enthroned that will so well equip her for that royal place, is all of Him. It is His glory she displays Whose throne she shares.
What depth of satisfaction this must bring each grace-filled heart. For only love divine could plan such bliss for loyal souls that live to praise their King. How does He then equip ignoble Galilean folk to seat them on a throne far higher than the greatest throne of earth? Earth's princes are in youth prepared for rulership one day with governors, special schooling, university. They learn to live with riches and with power. Beneath each sovereign shadow do they grow acquainted with intricacies of highest life and protocol.
Is that my life? How can I hope to see upon that higher throne a place for me? Thus does He prove my trust that, with the call, the wise almighty God proveth all my training needs. I do not need to fear that He Who draws me near will thoroughly prepare for glory His dear Son, and yet forget to school those who will share that righteous rule. "Why is this happening to me?" do now we ask, when hard experience, joys and tears, all fill my cup? What purpose lies in circumstance that seems remote from ways that I might plan the discipline of saints? Yet touch-by-touch impression of the Potters hand prepares the vessel He has planned, and when we see what He has wrought we understand. Then, looking back to trace life's pattern we will see how it relates, each tiny need, each taste of grace, to heaven's place prepared, that ministry of grace reserved by name for me. Thus tailor made, befitting every saint, the path is formed and every step ordained to lead to what awaits, a reign of mercy, understanding love, in able hands of those who grace explored while here below.
The needs of all mankind are known to her, His queen, and for each need she has discovered grace. She knows the ways of human souls, their very thoughts, and none could warmer guidance know than those responding to her call to "Come". What are these qualities of grace that will adorn this daughter of the King of Glory? For none unsuited will receive that final call to share that throne. In that prospectus of the school of Christ, what subjects rate the highest, and which least? And by what standard will she be prepared? What constitutes a "pass" percentage-wise, for those who learn not seven times but seventy to forgive? All this the Tutor knows!
Will I get by? Will I scrape through? Is there some easier standard set, some lower grade, some lesser goal? Perhaps a part-time course, for Sundays and the meeting nights? Is there a minimum I just might gain on which realistically to set my sights? And will such standards fit me for the infinite, make me a vessel meet to bear His Name? Ah no, dear brethren, let us not confuse the modest recognition of our own unworthy state, acknowledgment of fault, ability's deep poverty. Let us not mistake the meaning of His call of such unworthy objects of His love. We all learn not to live beyond our means, nor build on fantasies a house of dreams, but this is something else. No man or woman, no not one, could take this honor for himself save for that call divine, and have we yet assessed those means divine beyond which we must not live? Have we explored the wisdom of our Father's mind, the heritage of each child of His? We are His children, Whose likeness will yet shine to testify His Spirit's life within. What do we lack for which faith cannot ask? Have we found room enough to yet receive that heavenly abundance He pours out so liberally, Who not by measure does His Spirit give? There is no standard yet He cannot reach within each sample of a Master's skill. Each finished saint will be His masterpiece, each one a miracle of grace. In each perfection is His mark, or He can not on any sign His Name. In each His fullness is revealed, for by His breath of life is multiplied by that life-force that first live tiny cell of faith, and nurtures until it grows all grace to comprehend. Nor does He rest until that measure full of stature is achieved by holy oil descending from the Head.
If such a power now works within our lives, then do we know what end He has in view That Holy Thing that shall be born His child, a son of God. Our Father does not tease, nor give a stone to those who hunger for the Bread of Life. We barely comprehend the standards set of love, of holiness, of trust, but surely know in each He will achieve an "uttermost". His humblest pupil He will raise from consciousness of failure and ill-ease, through every rising grade to thus pursue the loftiest heights of heavenly endowment, precious skills that only He can teach.
The meek delight to learn thus at His side, with all their heart they seek, and knock, and find, those precious treasures of their loving Teacher's mind. Their thirst is all He needs, a thirst that naught will quell but Him alone, their Light, their Fount, their Well. Those who for wisdom cry, and for hid treasure seek with such painstaking care, He promises to fill. So much He waits to share with every child of love. Hearken and consider well, thou daughter of a King! Thy beauty He desires, of holiness divine, that He can own as "Mine".
Our Teacher has in hand our every need His end to yet achieve. It is ours to now lay hold, whatever each day unfold, upon that store of grace, accept the cup He gives, and seek our Teacher's face, to know how we should use the privilege bestowed, to serve, to wait, to bear, to praise, to love, to care. Lord help me to respond, my full attention keep, alert to every lesson of each day, that at its close my Teacher's smile will bless my rest.
The queen arrayed in glory realm is well prepared for every human need of earth's great family, and she has learned to live with glory too. Beneath that Sovereign shadow she has sat with great delight, and in His presence tasted that abundant life. In bringing her to glory He causes all his goodness to pass before her. Within her Savior's face she did behold such glories of His Father's wondrous love. And she, beholding, did that Light absorb, and thus the glory from above she did reflect, until her face, like that of Jesus, shone, although she wist it not.
Queen Esther was prepared for that great day when she would be escorted to the throne, by daily bathing in the perfumed oil, adorned in garments well befitting royalty, attended by so many helping hands, though for an earthly sovereign was such meticulous care applied. What then of those who now know heaven's call, and willingly their earthly hopes forsake? Can they be less prepared to share His throne, upon Whose reign redemption's work depends? The throne of heaven's love, of mercy, and of grace, He waits to share.
Without the reign of Jesus and His Bride, the ransom paid for all in Jesus' blood would be in vain! Such blessed truths we know, and yet, like Sheba's queen, our breath is taken at the sight of glory's throne above, of Him Who sits in majesty thereon, and they who share the honor at His side.