Those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. “I, even I, am he who comforts you.” (Isa. 51: 11–12 NIV)
Father, words cannot capture my gratitude for the hope these promises bring today. I believe your Word, but free me even more from the unbelief that dogs and dulls my heart. As this day begins, I choose to remember I’ve already been ransomed, redeemed, purchased by Jesus for you. I was bought out of sin, condemnation, and death and brought into your eternal embrace. Thankfully, I’m no longer my own. I’m yours, and you love me because you love me . . . period.
All captivities—the ones I’ve generated and those brought upon me by others—all of them are broken in Jesus. No imprisonment, no bondage, no stronghold will keep me from arriving safely home in the New Jerusalem.
What will it be like when we’re crowned with everlasting joy? What will it sound like when my voice blends in with the entire family of God as we enter the New Jerusalem together? I know what it feels like to be overtaken by guilt and shame, but what will it be like to be overtaken by gladness and joy? Jesus, bring the blessed day when all sorrow and sighing will flee away forever.
Indeed, Jesus, you comfort us like no one else. Forgive me for seeking my comfort from anyone or anything else. Give me enough comfort in the gospel today that I might freely share with others the very comfort I find in you. I pray in Jesus’ merciful name. Amen.