The King has come. The dragon-slayer conquered and He has turned the scarlet of His people to the white of snow. He came in trial and travail. He came in real, physical, agonizing birth. There was blood at that beginning and there was blood at the agonizing, excruciating end—the end that was really the stunning beginning where the world turned right side up and was made forever new.
From beyond the beginning of time He had determined and looked forward with iron resolve to that coming, ordering it with a love beyond the foundations of the world. Throughout the ages God gave His word, the faithful among His people clinging to it, and in the fullness of time all—every last iota—was fulfilled completely in Christ, the final word, the Word made flesh.
And in the fullness of His coming, slaying the dragon, He brought peace. Yet peace is not ‘safety’. The worlds have been turned right side up and they are still shaking with the impact. The clay models of fallen men are turning on their heads round us and precarious territory lies everywhere.
He has come. The work is utterly finished. At the same time we are waiting again—waiting for the final culmination. We await it as warriors. Our King stood alone in the fiery breach. He struck the death-blow and He commands His people to step out in faith—to follow Him in battle. And through all the fighting He gives us a great longing—a longing that can only be satiated with more of Himself. A burning longing blending and twined inseparably with a fathomless joy.