Still He was there along - unseen...

From book:   The Journal of the Unknown Prophet

                    

For as we entered the twenty-first century, there is a cry that would ring out from Jesus Christ of Nazareth, as He who neither slumbers nor sleeps, walks even today through the streets of London, Rome, New York, Beirut, Los Angeles, Delhi, His cheeks wet with tears for a lost and fatherless generation neither cognizant of His presence nor caring.

But still He walks...

   unseen...

       and still He weeps...

For He is still the One who walks, His hands outstretched to the meek and the lowly.

Still He walks, listening out for the cry of the human heart. For where the world has drowned out your cry in its obsessive grasping for success and power and sway, it is to you He comes.

Oh and how long has He sought you, beloved?
How many nights, has He stood listening, silently waiting in the shadows unseen by you and those that surround you?

For it was He who wept as He heard our soundless scream in the midnight hour: It was He who watched as you tried in your brokeness to marshall together the fragments of your shattered heart.

And so most beloved of His children, now He comes closer, the fairest of ten thousand. And as He walks out from behind the shadows and you lift up your tear-stained face to Him, half blinded by the radiance from that most beautiful of countenances, He reaches out His hand to you.

He reaches out His hand to touch your face and His touch lingers on your cheek as He brushes away the tears that flow. And He smiles that most wondrous of smiles.

'You?' you mouth soundlessly.

And you hear His tender whisper: I have sought you all your life. Through all the pain, through the loneliness, I have sought you. Each time your heart broke soundlessly with the agony of not belonging, I sought you. Through each rejection, through each hour of despair, I sought you. I was there, loving you. Reaching out to you. It was Me all along.

And as your eyelids gently close as you are engulfed in His tender embrace and the tears fall, somewhere through the sands of time in that netherland betwixt sleeping and waking, you recognise that familiar presence and you too know that He was there.

It was He all along.